


Meltdown

by Sycophantism



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-19 08:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2381888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sycophantism/pseuds/Sycophantism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsukishima is an unlikely omega, and he knows that best of all. Ever since he discovered this about himself, he's worked dilligently to hide it. And until now, he's been successful.</p><p>But this two week training camp is going to change all of that when his heat strikes far earlier than he'd prepared for. With no way to know how fourteen days of heat suppressants will affect him, he has to try and figure out some way to survive the next two weeks without letting his secret get out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not For Lack of Planning

**Author's Note:**

> Omegaverse Haikyuu!. Oh, I've reached a new low.
> 
> Hugely hugely huuuugely inspired by [haikyuun](http://haikyuun.tumblr.com/)'s Omegaverse doodles (especially [this one](http://haikyuun.tumblr.com/post/95718078059/tsukishima-i-dont-wanna-be-an-omega-kei-taking)). 
> 
> I'm not normally one for chapters, but I want to go for some build-up this time. Also trying to undermine my PWP habits and throw some story into it this time. (It'll inevitably deteriorate into dirty, dirty smut though, so don't worry.)
> 
> Comments and kudos are super appreciated! Much love~ I hope you enjoy \o/

It was a slow, torturous thing. The convenient thing about _cycles_ is that they follow a pattern, even an imperfect one. To a degree, they're predictable. For someone as keen as Tsukishima Kei, it was easy to keep track of his heat. Even something as mercurial and unpredictable as that, he could manage. It was all about timing-- the soonest and latest it would come, and being prepared between those times-- and knowing the signs-- the absolute earliest symptoms, and how long before the real heat struck that they began to show. While it had been a harder challenge than most for him to tackle, he had finally bested nature (or so, that was how he thought of it) and begun the process of passing off as _not_ an omega.

They were imperfect, but they did their job. Many people spoke out against the use of heat suppressants-- said they were unnatural (and unfair to domineering alphas, Tsukishima thought cynically)-- but if he was going to make it through high school without revealing his true nature, then they were necessary. Besides, he followed the instructions on the warning label; he didn't use them excessively, and he didn't use them to try and smother his heat completely. They were meant to be temporary, for the sake of convenience to those omegas who led normal lives and had a schedule that couldn't always be shifted for the sake of a horny week off. They weren't a "get out of heat free" card. 

No more than one week, it said, at the absolute _most_. That was fine. With the right tools (and he grimaced to think of them as tools, but the alternative was to admit he had an array of sex toys, and that wasn't about to happen) it was easy to get through a heat within a few days. Often he would push himself, trying to get it down to two, and sometimes he succeeded. He couldn't afford to skip school, both for his grades and the possibility of someone suspecting the exact sort of illness he was suffering from. But sometimes it was unavoidable, his heat would linger, and he'd miss a day of school to vigorously work at satisfying his damned arousal. 

So he could take the suppressants until the end of the school week, then spend the weekend fucking himself senseless before classes rolled around again on Monday. It had become routine for him, and despite having to work extra hard on those Mondays to ensure he had all of his homework ready to hand in, he managed. 

He had managed all this time. Even after joining the volleyball team, it had been the easy process of missing the occasional Friday practice; blaming homework, or chores, or errands, or even a cold. There were plenty of legitimate reasons to get out of one practice, especially if it was only one every few months. 

There were no legitimate reasons to get out of this training camp. It didn't cross his mind to bother trying, either; he could survive two weeks, especially since his heat wasn't due to start until halfway through the trip. If he didn't need to start taking the suppressants until a week before they left, then there were no problems. 

As always, Tsukishima had everything planned out. He was prepared for this training camp, with the heat suppressants hidden in an aspirin bottle, and that easy sort of assurance that meant no doubt or worry crossed his mind.

Not until that first night-- after greeting the Nekoma, Shinzen, Fukurodani, and Ubagawa teams and running through their first drills and practice matches-- when the familiar sensations of heat began to appear.

They weren't supposed to happen for at least another week, he thought to himself as he threw the covers off and seized his bag. The restlessness that had plagued him for the last hour, he had easily attested to the excitement of the day. His inability to sleep, he could blame on the continued noise going on in the next room, were the rowdy part of their team was still exclaiming about such or such parts of the day's events. (Shouldn't the captain have gone in to scold them by now? he had wondered with annoyance about thirty minutes ago.) 

Those things, he could explain away. But the sudden sweating, the fidgeting, the way he felt drowsy but completely aware of everything around him at the same time-- those things were symptoms. He could still explain them, but they were wrong.

Fumbling his way out of the room he was sharing with several teammates he didn't have the care to remember, Tsukishima took long strides down the hall and turned into the bathroom. He couldn't risk going to the kitchen and having someone see him taking medication. The questions it would arise, and the possibility that someone might recognize the little pills-- no, too dangerous.

Cupping his hands under the stream of water, ignoring the slight tremor under his skin, he ducked down and splashed it over his face. Shaking his head, pushing damp bangs out of his face, he pulled the aspirin bottle out of his pocket and popped the cap open, shaking a tablet into his palm. Tilting his head and drinking straight from the tap, he straightened a moment later and slipped the pill past his lips, swallowing. 

There.

Somehow having the medication in his body helped calm him slightly. Heat changed things-- hormones made emotions tumultuous and unstable, riotous, and they even affected Tsukishima when he wasn't careful to keep himself composed. Even though it would take a little while for the suppressants to really kick in, just knowing that it would start working helped ease his nerves. He hadn't even realized how anxious he'd been since realizing his heat was starting until the stress trickled away. 

Feeling the tension drain from his muscles, Tsukishima let out a deep breath. Returning the aspirin bottle to his pocket, he turned around and leaned back against the sink, staring at the ceiling. He would wait here for a little while, until the most pressing symptoms-- the agitation, and of course the first inklings of arousal-- began to fade. Tipping his head back and shutting his eyes, he enjoyed the silence that came with being so far from the room shared by Hinata, Tanaka, and Nishinoya. 

After a while, the chill of the room finally got to him, and he shivered. A sign that the medication was working; his body temperature was returning to normal-- he didn't felt warm anymore. No longer immune to the cool air, he pushed away from his perch and left.

Slipping back into room he had been assigned to, the blond crouched over his bed and discreetly returned the medication into the hidden pocket of his pack. It didn't make a sound, thanks to the cotton he had tucked inside-- carrying around a pill bottle just brought about questions he didn't want to deal with.

"Tsukki?" His hand jolted slightly at the sudden sound of this nickname and he glanced up at the lump beside his cot. Yamaguchi had propped himself up on one elbow and was squinting at him sleepily, lifting a hand to rub his eye. "Where were you?"

"Bathroom," he responded automatically, knowing the truth was best when you trying to lie. The tone he offered his response in was flat, his usual disinterested demeanor, and it was sincere. Yamaguchi's constant interest in everything he did could get on his nerves at times, and in situations like this-- when it wasn't really important where he'd been-- that irritation showed.

"Okay, Tsukki." Lowering himself again, Yamaguchi yawned against the back of his hand, before wiggling deeper into his blankets and disappearing beneath them. 

Yamaguchi was easy to lie to. For someone who spent time with Tsukishima of all people, and partook in the same antagonistic behaviors as the blond giant, he was surprisingly earnest. To someone who rarely thought to lie, they often didn't consider that they were being lied to. 

Returning to the warmth of his own cot, Tsukishima set his glasses aside, laid his head back against the pillow, and stared through the blurry darkness towards the ceiling. Now that his emotions were back under control, no longer being lead astray by uncooperative chemicals, his rational concerns arose.

Unease twisted low in his gut, and it had nothing to do with heat. This was the first night of the training camp, and they were scheduled to be here for two weeks. The bus wasn't going to return until the date they were meant to leave, and it was too far to consider any other mode of transportation to return home. Short of buying his own bus ticket out of here-- and that was far too flashy to think he could get away with it without attracting a lot of unwanted attention-- he was stuck.

The longest he'd taken the suppressants for was four days, when his heats struck on Mondays. In those situations, he always took his last suppressant on Thursday evening, so that after school on Fridays, once he got home, its 24 hour affects would begin to wear off and he could get straight to work appeasing his body.

Four days. And now he would have to take them for fourteen. Even just one extra day would have been uncharted territory, and a few more than that would have been enough to unsettle Tsukishima of the complete unknown. But _ten more days_? He had absolutely no idea what to expect from that.

But he had no choice. There was no running away, and there was no way he could let the heat surface here. 

This wasn't supposed to happen. Rolling over onto his side, Tsukishima narrowed his eyes to angry slits. All of his planning and preparation had been for nothing, if it would fail him at such a crucial point. His calculations had only been off by a day or two in the past, and only a handful of times at that over the years. And it had never been at any point where it would have such severe repercussions. 

Running a hand down his face, the middle blocker exhaled slowly. So long as he maintained his aloof demeanor, then it would be fine. Even if the affects of the heat started to sneak through the suppressants sometime in the second week, he could manage. If there was one thing Tsukishima was good at, it was playing it cool. And that included lying. A stomach bug, heat stroke, fatigue, there were a million excuses he could use to explain away any behavioral quirks that might appear. If it got down to the wire, they might even excuse him from practice so he could go rest. Maybe then he could jerk himself off a few times, just to ward off the symptoms for a while.

Tsukishima pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. That was too far ahead to be worrying so much right now. Their practice match with Fukurodani was tomorrow, and that owlish captain of theirs always gave him a hard time when he was half-assed with his blocks. He couldn't afford to be distracted by a problem that wouldn't even manifest until next week.

But in the back of his mind, he knew this wasn't going to go well. Even as he drifted off to sleep, Tsukishima understood the consequences of abusing heat suppressants. In his mind, he could handle it. He could handle anything that the world threw at him. He'd handled the mortifying realization that he was an _omega_ , he could handle this. 

If he couldn't, then what good was he?


	2. Luckless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah I didn't expect so many people to enjoy this! Oh gosh, it's very exciting to have received so many comments and kudos on the first chapter. Thank you very much, everyone! I'll do my best ;w;
> 
> Here in chapter two, we have... other characters! Actually, a funny story; I wrote Nishinoya eating yakitori in this chapter, and when I went out for dinner with my roommate the other night, I saw it on the menu. I decided to try it, and-- well, I guess I like yakitori, because I got eight servings! Eheheh. 
> 
> I'm trying to find a flow for how long I want these chapters to be, but my writing never seems consistent in that regard. Long chapters, short chapters, who knows what the future holds? (Lots of Tsukishima, that much is guaranteed. ~~And KuroTsukki, but shhh.~~ )

**

Day 2.

**

* * *

Facing off against Fukurodani first thing in the morning was less stressful than Tsukishima had predicted, though no less annoying. The opposing team's captain was as loud as ever, and despite his best efforts Tsukishima could only stop one in four spikes made by him. That in itself was enough to get on his nerves. Hearing how excited the third year got over every single successful point only aggravated him all the more. Clicking his tongue, the blond spun away from the net and returned to his starting position.

"I bet if you break his rhythm now, it would really frustrate him." The conspiratorial whisper came from the other side of the court line, and Tsukishima's gaze turned towards it without thinking. The Nekoma captain was grinning at him from under that outrageous fringe, one hand held up to stop the Fukurodani ace from hearing.

_If it was that easy, I would have done it by now,_ Tskushima thought irately, looking away without deigning to reply.

"Good luck," Kuroo hummed as he drifted away, heading towards the sideline of the court beside theirs.

The next serve went sailing over him and he inclined his head, gaze following the ball through the air until it hit the receive on Nishinoya's wrists. Turning halfway and leaning back against one leg, he watched the ball fall neatly onto Kageyama's fingertips, before shooting through the air to meet Hinata's palm straight on. A resounding slap echoed through the gymnasium, followed a split second later by the sound of the volleyball slamming into the court on the other side.

That freak quick. Relaxing his posture, Tsukishima straightened, ignoring the excitement that kicked off from the duo's success. Celebrating at this point in the game was pointless. They were too far behind to bring it back without a miracle, and with Fukurodani receiving the next serve, the opposing team was sure to go for another guaranteed spike. 

With that thought, his gaze drifted towards the enemy captain. He was quick to reassure his teammates, though rarely took any consolation when he failed in succession. That kind of capricious self-esteem was both convenient and annoying. If he could take advantage of it, he could put Bokuto out of commission, if just for a little while. From there, it would make focusing their efforts on the rest of Fukurodani's team-- skilled on their own, even without the addition of a top five spiker-- that much easier.

Unknowingly, he'd taken Kuroo's words to heart, and already intended to stop the next spike. Breaking Bokuto's streak at this point, right after Karasuno had scored, would be the first step towards discouraging him completely. 

Bracing himself, Tsukishima kept his eyes focused on the other side of the net until he heard the serve. His eyes moved towards the opposing players, tracking each movement as they received the ball, sending it straight to the setter. With a clean set like that, there was no doubt.

Loosening his knees, Tsukishima kept his head low, eyes locked onto the ball. In his peripheral vision he saw the captain racing forward, saw him crouch and jump. Timing his own response perfectly, Tsukishima launched himself straight upwards, arching his arms over, barring the way.

The ball slammed into his inner arms and dropped-- on the other side of the net. Stumbling back, Bokuto heard the ball land a second after his own shoes, and Tsukishima stood straight, rubbing the red marks left by the blow. 

There was a flicker of disappointment in Bokuto's expression, but a few words from his teammates got him back on track. It would take more than one block to shake him, and he was quickly ready to try again. Preparing for the next serve, Tsukishima kept his eyes straight, ready to block that spike as many times as it took to end it.

* * *

They lost almost every practice match that day. The penalties ranged from flying falls to laps around the building, depending on how many times consecutively they lost. In the end, they'd seen their fair share of the perimeter of the gymnasium, both inside and out.

Dinner was shared in the cafeteria with all five teams. For the most part, they stuck to their own ranks, and while there was more mingling between the four local schools, Hinata had disappeared to sit with Nekoma's setter and Nishinoya was off harassing their libero. Tsukishima, never the socialite, could barely be said to have spent time with his own team over the meal. 

The food was good, prepared by all of the schools' managers and supervisors, and for anyone who wasn't already an incurable chatterbox, conversation was limited. Everyone was focused on devouring everything in front of them, ravenous from the hard day. 

Tsukishima's appetite was more concentrated than he was used to, and Yamaguchi noticed when he went for his fourth bowl of rice. When he opened his mouth to comment, Tsukishima narrowed his eyes as he lifted another helping to his mouth. The silent warning was enough to have the other dropping his head again and returning to his own meal.

Why was he so hungry? Even at the other training camps, when he was working harder, his appetite didn't increase this much. Setting down his empty bowl for the fifth time, he had to struggle with the temptation to reach out for another roll. 

"Are you okay, Tsukki?" Finally Yamaguchi spoke, and Tsukishima frowned. 

"Fine." In the split second he had put his attention towards answering Yamaguchi, his body had moved automatically to take another vegetable tempura. Brows furrowing, he bit down on it and chewed, staring at the plate in front of him. 

"Tsukki has quite the appetite tonight, hm?" That familiar voice made his frown deepen, and he chose to ignore the Nekoma captain now standing over him. 

"Good!" Nishinoya had returned and dropped down into his seat across from the tall middle blocker, snatching up his chopsticks and reaching out to start loading his plate with yakitori. "You need to eat more! Look at how skinny you are. I probably weigh more than you. With how much you're moving around and jumping, blocking and spiking, you should eat ten times as much as you normally do!"

"That much is unreasonable," Sugawara interrupted from a few seats down the table.

"Fine. Five times as much."

"That's still too much."

"Excuse me." Pushing away from his seat, Tsukishima stood. Yamaguchi looked up, and Kuroo took a step back when the space he was hovering over suddenly became occupied. The other Karasuno first year frowned slightly with concern, while the Nekoma captain grinned idly in amusement, as Tsukishima walked away.

* * *

It was only 5pm. 

He was in the bathroom again. Fingers digging into the edge of the sink, Tsukishima bowed over it, eyes narrowed. Something tight and hot was blossoming in his abdomen, something sinister and he knew _exactly_ what it was, and it didn't make any sense. The suppressants were the 24 hour brand, he always made sure of that. Every tablet had "24hr" engraved on it, and he'd checked them in the light of the bedroom minutes ago before rushing to the bathroom. 

It had been at least 10pm when he took them last night, probably closer to 11pm. The effects were wearing off six hours early. A quarter of their promised time. They'd never done that before.

They weren't expired, he reminded himself as he clenched his fists against the ceramic. He was always careful, always checked the expiration date before using them. This time, he had double checked, considering he would be away for two weeks. 

Feeling the arousal starting to slither farther south, he quickly tugged the aspirin bottle out of his pocket and took one of the suppressants. It was too early to be doing this-- he was going to throw off the schedule-- but at the rate his heat was resurfacing, he wouldn't be able stay sane until nearly midnight.

Once again, with the medication in his body, Tsukishima was able to think a little more clearly. Closing his eyes, exhaling, he took a minute to compose himself again. The pressure on his gut lightened, and the warmth that had begun to creep up his neck was fading. 

Think. He was supposed to be the smart one, so think.

The exercise. He was exerting himself significantly more during this training camp than he ever had before when he was on the suppressants. A full day of demanding physical activity could burn away the effects of the drug. Or so he thought-- he was a first year in high school, not a pharmacist. But it was the only explanation he had. 

_Shit_. How was he going to handle this new development? Take the suppressants more often. If they were only going to work for 18 hours instead of 24, then that meant he'd have to escape practice tomorrow around... noon to take another. That was alright; he could take his lunch outside someplace. He had seen a few of the other schools' team members doing that. And it wouldn't be surprising to anyone that he wanted to get away from the racket of the cafeteria. 

Closing his eyes, Tsukishima lifted a hand to his brow and wiped away the sweat there. "Damn it," he muttered, lifting his face and looking at himself in the mirror. 

The eyes looking back at him asked, _What else can go wrong?_

"Ah, Tsukishima." Exactly that. There was literally no way it could have gone any more wrong in that moment.

Turning slowly away from the sink, he glared out from an oppressive atmosphere. Hinata looked like his skeleton tried to jump out of his skin, startled by the stormy look. Stepping back, the shorty picked at his shirt anxiously, suddenly far less enthusiastic about finding his teammate also using the bathroom.

"Uh. You-- you okay?" It was the same kind of nervousness he got before a match, wasn't it? Tsukishima felt a stirring of disdain at the comparison and he straightened his posture, staring down at the energetic runt. 

"Fine," he repeated his answer from earlier, shoving both hands into his pockets and passing Hinata to leave the bathroom. He could feel his teammate's stare boring into his back and scowled, hunching his shoulders and ignoring it. 

Returning to the bedroom, Tsukishima stashed his pills and dropped down onto the cot with a huff.

"Are you feeling sick?" _Goddamn it._ Couldn't he go five minutes without bumping into someone?

Sitting up again, he squinted across the room at Sugawara. While Tsukishima didn't feel the same sentimental fondness for the "team mother" as his teammates, there were... certain exceptions to be made for him. Unless there were outstanding circumstances-- like an especially irresistible occurrence-- Tsukishima didn't pick on this particular third year. In the end, most of the third years were exempt from his antagonism, but he was more aware of it when it came to Sugawara. 

"No." The response came out automatically-- it was the truth-- and he cursed inwardly, realizing that Sugawara was asking because he'd seen the aspirin bottle. Having so many people asking _are you okay?_ had put him off guard. "Just a bit of a headache," he muttered, trying to recover the slip.

"Will you be alright to play the next practice match?" That kind of unnecessary concern would get on his nerves easily, but Tsukishima knew Sugawara wasn't the kind to insist, so he was blunt:

"I'll be fine." 

Nodding, Sugawara glanced down at his phone-- plugged into the wall, Tsukishima noticed-- before setting it back down on the table. "I'll see you later, then." Tsukishima nodded in way of answer as Sugawara left the room, closing the door (quietly) behind himself.

Heaving out a frustrated sigh, Tsukishima laid back again, resting his head against his hands staring at the ceiling. For the next ten minutes he waited for someone else to appear-- Kageyama, if karma really wanted to make the best of tormenting Tsukishima, or maybe Fukurodani's captain-- but the door didn't open again.

Twenty minutes after that, when he heard voices down the hall, it occurred to him that Sugawara was turning people away from this end of the hallway, giving Tsukishima some peace and quiet to recover from his make-believe headache.

He wasn't going to complain about that. Closing his eyes, he let out a long, deep breath, and relaxed. The suppressants had kicked in, and he could feel the last of his agitation slipping away. 

When 6pm rolled around, his phone gave a little buzz and he rolled over, squinting sleepily. Realizing he'd dozed off, Tsukishima pushed himself into a sitting position and pulled his cell phone out of the pocket of his bag. It didn't take him long after that to realize it wasn't his own phone that had vibrated, and he looked over towards the desk where Sugawara's cell was laying. Its screen was just dimming.

Pushing himself slowly to his feet, he bent forward and stretched, warding off the drowsiness that had appeared in his limbs and quickly walking to the door, stepping out. 

He met Sugawara before reaching the gymnasium, and the setter perked up at the sight of him. "How's your head?"

This time he hesitated before answering, remembering the mistake he'd made last time. "Better," he said finally, deciding that was safe. 

"That's a relief." Flashing him a smile, Sugawara quickly got behind him and started pushing him towards the gymnasium. "Let's go, we're late for stretches."

"Uh-huh." Arching away from the setter, spurning physical contact as always, Tsukishima passed through the doors to the familiar sounds of squeaking sneakers and volleyballs pounding the hardwood floors.

Trotting across the court, he slowed as he reached the area his own team was occupying. At the fringe he set out to begin his own stretches. It was an oddly quiet ordeal for Karasuno, everyone concentrating on their own body, ensuring they were limber for the match. Even Hinata would focus on this, eyes distant but expression intent on the task.

The practice match against Nekoma was arduous; pushing themselves to the limit, diving to save every ball and jumping even after their legs felt like jello. The rallies felt like they went on forever, and despite the exhaustion on both sides, they only grew longer as the match progressed. 

Tsukishima entered a challenge of his own, set just for him by the opposing captain. Kuroo's lazy, carefree grin, despite the sweat pouring down his face, pissed Tsukishima off. Especially when Kuroo seemed to knock down his every spike, sometimes going out of his way to be the blocker that would deny Tsukishima a point. Determined to get one past the Nekoma third year, Tsukishima pushed himself just as hard as his teammates.

They lost, 22-25, and the break between sets went on for longer than was expected. When they were called back to the court, everyone had difficulty dragging themselves back on. 

Before the first serve was even sent, they were saved by the bell; the coaches calling that it was time to start packing up and get ready for bed. It was odd to have adults other than their parents giving them a curfew, but everyone there was used to it by this point. Clearing the gymnasium, doing their final stretches, then heading off to the showers, there was an air of combined resignation and relief at the postponement of their match.

Tsukishima's limbs felt like they were going to fall off, and he lay sprawled against his cot, staring at the ceiling through half-open eyes. Something about that Nekoma captain's smug smirk riled him more than anything. Someday he would wipe that grin right off of the bastard's face.

"Tsukki, first years' turn in the showers." Craning his neck back, he looked upside-down to see Yamaguchi standing behind the head of his pillow. 

The thought of standing was almost too much to bear and he closed his eyes, considering not taking a shower that night. That would mean admitting he was drained, though, and if the other first years could make it...

Sitting up slowly, Tsukishima gathered his towel from his bag and stood. It wasn't so bad now that he was up and moving, and he followed Yamaguchi to the bath. Already, he could hear Hinata's boisterous voice. By the time they reached the doorway, Kageyama was yelling at him to shut up, and after that the four of them managed to shower in relative peace. 

The Nekoma captain was waiting outside of the bath when Tsukishima stepped out, and he stopped to stare at the other. "What do you want?"

"You looked pretty tired today," Kuroo hummed, his tone far too upbeat for the doting words. "Are you having trouble sleeping?" Inclining his head, Kuroo's lids drooped a bit, and that perpetual smile took on a darker edge. "You should take better care of yourself."

Something about that look grated on Tsukishima's nerves more than ever before. _Worry about your own teammates,_ he wanted to say, but refused to let this guy get a rise out of him. "I'll be sure to do that," he responded, waving his hand dismissively as he turned away. 

"You haven't countered me at all today," Kuroo complained, trailing along in his wake. "Is your tongue okay?"

"What kind of question is that?" Tsukishima muttered, pulling his towel through his hair before responding loud enough for the other to hear, "I don't have time for childish games."

"Ooh." Whistling under his breath, Kuroo grinned. "Thinking that hard about your training?"

Stopping, Tsukishima spun around, offering a smile that was meant to appear friendly and playful and completely belied his scathing words; "Like I said, I don't have time for childish games." With that, Kuroo stopped following him, and Tsukishima managed to make it to his room before huffing with irritation. To think he'd say something like that just to annoy Kuroo. Nothing he said seriously seemed to bother the Nekoma captain at all. Too tired to deal with that, he'd said what had come to mind to get the other off of his back. And it had worked.

Dismissing it from his thoughts, Tsukishima settled in for a good night's sleep.

* * *

**

Day 3.

**

The practice match against Nekoma resumed straight after breakfast. Tsukishima had eaten an average helping, which Nishinoya had scorned as half a meal. After stretches and warm-ups, the teams lined up and went to their starting positions.

It wasn't as grueling as the night before. The rallies went by quicker. While the spikers were in top condition after a good night's sleep, so were the receivers, and counter-attacks were just as common.

The first time Kuroo shot up for a spike, Tsukishima counted his pacing and leapt up to block him. The volleyball blew past his left arm, knocking it out of the way. His feet returned to the ground a moment after he heard the ball hit the court. 

"Is this the childish game you don't have time for?" Eyes widening slightly, Tsukishima straightened slowly, lifting his face and staring through the net at Nekoma's captain. Those sharp eyes were staring at him, lacking the usual snarky grin. "It really shows." Tsukishima clenched his teeth tightly. _Provoking me?_

It pissed him off that it worked.

The next time Kuroo tried to spike, Tsukishima shut him down. A smug thrill ran through him, though it was replaced a moment later with irritation. It was just one spike. 

Still, with the way Kuroo was grinning at him, he'd seen that brief flash of triumph in Tsukishima's eyes. Pretending not to notice, Tsukishima turned away and took his position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, quite an unpleasant day for Tsukki. Nothing seems to be going his way :C 
> 
> Once again, I _love_ comments! They are my lifeblood  <33 Thank you all for the support!


	3. Sugar Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for taking so long to post this chapter. I went to visit family for Thanksgiving, and then I had to catch up on all of my homework, blah blah blah. I've updated my profile with some things you might find interesting, so you should go take a peek at that if you're enjoying this fic! 
> 
> With that out of the way, here's chapter three! <3

**Day 3.**

Akaashi straightened from his stretches, looking out across the length of the gymnasium. Brows furrowing slightly, he picked out two scattered throughout the courts-- Morisuke Yaku, and Koushi Sugawara. Their teams were on different courts, and Akaashi settled into a crouch to observe them each for several minutes.

The Karasuno setter wasn't playing, but that didn't curb his enthusiasm at all. Even so, that was typical for the third year, and inevitably Akaashi decided that he wasn't acting oddly. Shifting his gaze to Yaku, he stared for a while longer before eventually coming to the same conclusion. 

Sighing with a hint of frustration, he stood again, casting another look over the multitude of volleyball players. Finally, turning away, Akaashi scooped a ball out of the basket and prepared for practice.

* * *

With half of his mind on his rising temperature and the other half concentrating on the game, Tsukishima had an intimidating air about him. He couldn't be bothered to remember the name of their opponents, focusing only on jumping and blocking their spikes, jumping and blowing past their blockers. Every point was another second closer to victory, another second closer to the end of the game. Chest heaving, he braced his hands on bent knees and waited for the next serve. From the sidelines, he could hear Sugawara's concerned murmuring to Yamaguchi, but he immediately tuned them out. There was no time for that.

It was almost half past eleven. Furrowing his brows, clenching his fists, Tsukishima stood straight as the other team's server tossed the ball up. Sweat dripped down against his collar, and he could feel the back of his jersey plastered to his skin. It was more than the workout, though. He was feverish. It was getting worse.

A breeze on his cheek snapped him out of his thousand-mile stare, eyes widening slightly as the sound of a volleyball hitting the ground rose from behind him. Spinning, he saw the ball bouncing away, and he clenched his teeth. _Distracted._

"Don't mind," Daichi called, and Tsukishima's head snapped up. The captain said that, but there was a look of questioning in his eyes.

"Sorry," he muttered, turning towards the net again. 

"What was that?" Kageyama demanded, and Tsukishima felt his expression darken. Of course the King would get mad at him. Except this time, when he opened his mouth, he found that he had no legitimate excuse-- and no comeback waiting.

Instead, he just scowled and looked away, eyes narrowing. There was a beat of silence before Kageyama hissed and stomped back to his own position. Tense now all the way down to his toes, Tsukishima faced forward. 

The next serve came right at him, and he was ready for it. Of course they would aim for someone who'd missed such an easy receive, but he nailed it this time. Even so, the set that Kageyama sent up for Tanaka was blocked, and the enemy team made their way to the set point. 

Tsukishima received the next serve as well, though not as neatly as the previous. Another assurance from one of his teammates not to mind it made him frown, but he kept his eyes on the ball as he called flatly for a cover. Kageyama was there in an instant, gaze locked onto the ball, mind wholly focused on the set. Biting back a sense of resentment, Tsukishima watched the King set the ball perfectly for that freak quick, and Hinata's spike delivered it soundly to the opposing team's court. 

After the next rotation, the other team made a perfect receive, which lead them into an ideal attack formation. With three spikers going for the ball, Karasuno couldn't defend, and they lost the set as the volleyball slammed into the floor.

Standing on the sidelines as the teams took their breaks, Tsukishima seemed the most apprehensive of them all, fidgeting with his water bottle and glaring towards the ceiling-height windows. When it seemed that the match would resume, he clenched his jaw tightly.

"Lunch time!" the Fukurodani manager called. The other two courts were determined to play through their sets, though the Karasuno vs. ( _who cares,_ Tsukishima thought) match was put on pause as both teams streamed out the door and headed towards the kitchen.

Following stiffly, forcing himself to at least get some food, Tsukishima stared at the spread and immediately felt his mouth start to water. _Ugh, what the hell?_ Swallowing with irritation, he picked up a plate and loaded himself a meal. To his frustration, there was more than he would normally even consider eating, but the insistent growling of his stomach told him that he'd need this much.

Turning away to head for the exit, he didn't expect to nearly walk straight into a member of the Fukurodani team. Jolting, Tsukishima stared down at the black-haired setter, who was staring at him intently. "Can I help you?" Try as he might for that faux-pleasant tone, Tsukishima only managed to sound impatient.

"You're--"

"Akaashiiiii." The Fukurodani captain swooped in, swinging his arms around the setter's neck and hanging off of him. "You're bothering Tsukki? That's odd. Normally you give me a hard time for doing that, right?"

Not wanting to deal with the energetic third year, Tsukishima passed the two Fukurodani team members and headed for the exit. Weaving through the halls, he quickened his pace down the last hundred meters, shutting the door quickly behind him. This time, when he entered the room, he checked to make sure it was empty-- no Sugawara, good-- before going through his bag and pulling out the pills.

Taking one quickly, swallowing it with a bite of food, Tsukishima stashed the aspirin bottle back in the bag and waited several minutes for the agitation to leave his limbs. When the door opened, he swept up his plate and passed the intruder-- Asahi-- without a word. The anxious third year didn't try to stop him, and certainly didn't have the time to muster up enough courage to try saying something. Someone that tall had no place being so timid.

Out in the open air, Tsukishima finally felt like he could breath. Stopping short, shoulders slumping a bit in relief, he sighed heavily. A cool breeze whispered against his heated skin, and the fresh air in his lungs chased away the sense of claustrophobia he hadn't known was afflicting him. 

Walking slowly across the dirt path that circled the building, he climbed partway up the grassy slope that lead towards a dense forest, then turned and sat down. Balancing his plate on his lap, he glanced to his right, spotting a few others eating several yards away at a picnic table. There was no one to his left. Feeling relaxed in his isolation, Tsukishima settled down to eat.

It was his heat, he figured out while he was eating. Preparing him for days of vigorous physical activity, his heat was amplifying his appetite. Very annoying. With the heat suppressant kicking in, he took the time alone to think about what was happening.

If he only had eighteen hours between doses, then he would have to adjust to that schedule. Waking up at 5am didn't sound ideal, but waking up in the full swing of his heat-- in a room full of his teammates, in a building full of strangers-- sounded even less appealing. 

After that, the next day, he'd be back to midnight. At least, with a nice even number like eighteen, he could still manage to keep a somewhat consistent routine. It meant more pills more often, but it wouldn't be difficult to sneak away for a little while every few days. That didn't make this all any less of a bother, though, and Tsukishima exhaled irately through clenched teeth.

Shaking his head to clear it, deciding he'd mulled over the issue long enough, he finished off his meal and set his plate down next to him. Leaning back, laying against the grass, he squinted through his glasses up at the clear sky overhead. Being away from the noisiness of his team is unusual, but not unappreciated. It's a wonder he didn't do this more often. Closing his eyes, the middle blocker let out a long, heavy breath, enjoying the sun and the breeze for a few moments of peace.

It took until five minutes later for him to push himself into a sitting position, irritated. This was his heat making him want to relax, wasn't it? There was a distinct desire in the back of his mind for a nap-- and, a little deeper, to snuggle up in an ocean of pillows and blankets and softness and comfort. 

Cursing under his breath and snatching up his plate, Tsukishima stood and returned to the building.

* * *

**Day 3.  
4:11 pm.**

"Kuroo..."

Stopping mid-step, the Nekoma captain glanced down towards the voice of his friend. Perched on the edge of a cot, Kenma was fiddling with a handheld console, the screen black but a game in the slot. Letting his wrists go limp, resting his hands on his knees, the setter's eyes drifted aimlessly around the room, not looking towards Kuroo as he spoke; "You're tiring me out just watching you."

It took Kuroo a second to understand, but he realized eventually that he'd been pacing. "Ah, sorry." Crossing the room, he plopped himself down next to the setter, swinging his legs out and leaning over the other's shoulder. "Not playing?"

"... Battery died."

The outlets in the building were reserved for charging cell phones, and so he knew that Kenma tried to preserve the life of his games during training camps. _Tried_ being the key word-- he rarely succeeded. "Three days is pretty good for you," he laughed, clapping his friend's shoulder before standing and crossing to the window, peering out. Flexing his fingers, craving the feeling of a volleyball slamming against his palm, he turned away and moved towards the doorway, looking into the hall. The sound of the practice matches going on in the gym echoed even this far, and he listened with a trace of envy. Nekoma's next match wasn't due until Fukurodani finished their current one and had an opportunity to rest. 

Pushing his fringe back from his face with an impatient sigh, Kuroo returned to his desk, glancing at his phone (no messages) before taking a step towards the window again.

"Kuroo."

Twitching, a bit surprised to hear Kenma's voice again, he glanced over his shoulder slowly, a bit sheepishly. "Sorry." Without his friend to point it out, Kuroo wouldn't have noticed how much he was moving around. Was he really that restless for the next match? 

"You're acting weird," Kenma mumbled, lowering his eyes to his dead videogame. Glancing up, Kuroo could see beyond that glassy facade, could read the unhappiness in Kenma's face as though his pet had just died instead of his console.

"Weird?" Scratching his arm, the captain once again moved to the cot and sat down, leg bouncing idly. Noticing it, he forced himself to stop, frowning in concentration. 

For several minutes they sat quietly, comfortable only for the company they shared. There was always a wordless understanding between them, able to share space and silence as though they were alone. Peaceful.

"Flustered," Kenma finally responded. This time he looked up, and Kuroo met his gaze with a confused furrow of the brow.

Flustered..? "Hm." Leaning back against his hands, the captain looked towards the ceiling, narrowing his eyes slightly. _Flustered?_

Eventually Kenma looked back down at his empty screen, imagining the characters moving across the screen as his friend brooded.

* * *

" _YEAH!!_ " The Fukurodani captain was always so exultant when he succeeded in a spike, despite knowing he was one of the top five at a national level. It could have been exasperating, if he weren't so sincere. Instead, his own excitement only managed to charge both teams and get them all hyped up. 

Any extended exposure to that kind of attitude would tire anyone of it, Sugawara was certain, which might explain the setter's perpetual impatience with the owlish boy. Even so, he couldn't detect any ill feelings from him. Indeed, Sugawara was almost certain that he could sense some fondness from Akaashi for his captain. Even this team has that kind of relationship, and he can see it in the way they all support Bokuto, keeping his mood up and taking responsibility when it plummeted. 

"Hey! Hey, hey! I'll show you another right now, so be ready for it!" The captain's confidence was as fickle as could be, but when it was up, it soared. 

"We've got it!" one of the opposing team members called, "Quit your hooting!"

"Hey!" Bokuto exclaimed, his wide grin falling into a pout. Both teams laughed, and he sulked to hear his own teammates making fun of him.

 _It's alright so long as he gets to show that he has a reason to boast, right?_ That's what Fukurodani was thinking, Sugawara was sure. They always seemed connected on a level that excluded everyone else-- even other teams couldn't always form that kind of bond. Their thoughts were linked, following the same process. It came from predictability and understanding each other. 

"Please focus on the match instead of showing off, Bokuto-san," the setter said, tone deadpan as he stared straight ahead.

"I am focused!" Bokuto exclaimed indignantly. The entire team could tell he wasn't, and even Sugawara could see that much. 

"You've gloated about being top five for long enough. Get a better ranking next time so you have a reason to brag again."

"Don't cheapen it!" 

They were still bickering when Sugawara turned away and left the gymnasium. Karasuno's match against Shinzen had ended shortly after lunch, sending the local team on a lap around the gym. For a couple of hours they'd trained, before going up against Ubagawa. Once again they'd come out victorious and avoided the penalty. Two in a row was a record for Karasuno (Tsukishima had pointed out, cynically, that it wasn't a very good score, while Nishinoya and Tanaka were celebrating it), and they'd been amped up enough to go straight into more training while other practice matches went on behind them. 

Finally the team had worn itself out though, and everyone was off on their own waiting for the last practice match. Once Nekoma was done against Fukurodani, they would be having another mock "battle of the trash heap". Among them, Hinata appeared to be the most excited, practically vibrating in the stands as he watched Nekoma's current match. It seemed like he couldn't tear his eyes off of Lev, or Kuroo, or Bokuto, or Akinori... really, his eyes were all over the court. 

"Sugawara-san..?" Roused from his thoughts, the setter blinked down at the first year standing uncertainly in front of him.

"Hi, Yamaguchi." Instinctively, Sugawara smiled, a mixture of reassurance and welcoming in his features. "What is it?"

He could tell already that Yamaguchi was having second thoughts about approaching him. That kind of shyness wasn't typical of him; his nerves on the court rarely manifested off of it. Fidgeting, the first year took several moments to gather his thoughts before speaking again.

"I'm worried about Tsukki," he said finally, before hastening to (unhelpfully) add, "I think."

"Worried? Why?" Sugawara's smile faded a bit as he recalled Tsukishima's headache the day before. Was it more than that, after all? Was he sick?

"He's been acting oddly," Yamaguchi explained, trying to scrounge up examples. "He's... distracted, and-- well, he hasn't been bothering anyone. I know that should be a good thing, but it's just _weird_."

"Mm." Well, Sugawara _had_ noticed that Tsukishima's snide remarks were oddly... absent, recently. "Are you sure he isn't just concentrating on practice?" he asked finally, knowing that even he didn't believe it was very likely. Even when Tsukishima put all of his effort into something, he somehow retained that attitude.

Yamaguchi shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. "And--" Hesitating, Yamaguchi glanced away, as though reluctant to finish.

"Hm?" Sugawara watched him struggle with the decision before giving up and confiding in the setter.

"He's been really... fidgety, in his sleep. I've never seen Tsukki toss and turn that much."

"That is worrying," Sugawara murmured, brows furrowing slightly as he thought it over. "How about I talk to him and make sure everything is okay? Maybe I'll have him see one of the managers."

"Really?" Yamaguchi brightened slightly. Even Sugawara had noticed how Tsukishima was brushing off his usual partner-in-crime, and he realized now that Yamaguchi was coming to him because he thought Sugawara would be more successful in figuring this out.

"Really." Smiling again, he touched Yamaguchi's shoulder lightly, reassuringly. "I'll take care of it, okay?"

"Alright, Sugawara-san." Quickly straightening, Yamaguchi nodded gratefully before hurrying past him and trotting towards the gym. Sugawara watched him go, before facing forward again.

 _Now to find Tsukishima_.

"Sugawara-san." Again, he was pulled from his thoughts by someone saying his name. Turning around, he found the setter from Fukurodani coming up towards him.

A little surprised, Sugawara took a moment before saying, "Akaashi-san. What can I do for you?"

"You aren't in your heat, right?" The straightforward nature of the question almost had Sugawara blushing. Still, he knew that Akaashi was aware of him being an omega-- just the same as Akaashi knew of all the omegas on the five teams. For a beta, he was sensitive to the phermones emitted by both alphas and omegas. And, as every beta, he wasn't affected by them the way alphas and omegas were. 

"No, I'm not," he responded honestly. "Why?" The reason was obvious, but he still found himself asking.

Yet rather than answering right away, Akaashi looked away, appearing to be deep in thought. There was an uncertainty in the crease of his brows that Sugawara wasn't used to seeing in Akaashi.

Finally he looked up, head inclined slightly, eyes boring into Sugawara's. "I've been feeling the affects of a heat, but... I can't scent it properly. Once, this morning, I thought I smelled it-- but none of the omegas are showing signs."

"Could it be someone going through that developmental stage?"

"I'm not sure." Despite not being close, the two shared a protective regard for their teams. Akaashi's seemed to extend to the other Tokyo teams as well. 

"I'll keep an eye out," Sugawara assured him. 

"If I'm sensing it, then the alphas will be too."

"Oh." Now Sugawara understood Akaashi's concern. Yes, that was right-- Fukurodani and Nekoma both had an alpha on their teams. It was a relief that Karasuno had none-- all betas, save for Sugawara (though they weren't certain about some of the first years, as young as they were). "We should keep an eye on them, too..."

"Mm." Akaashi's wandering gaze finally looked up towards him again. "Sorry to bother you."

"No, no, it's alright." Sugawara assured him, waving off the apology. "I understand."

Nodding, Akaashi gave a short wave before departing, returning to the gymnasium. It struck Sugawara that Akaashi's presence must mean that the Fukurodani vs Nekoma match must have ended, and that Karasuno would have to gather for their stretches soon. 

It reminded him that he was supposed to be looking for Tsukishima for other reasons, as well.

And his last two conversations clicked together in his mind, his eyes widening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone pointed out that I seem to like cliffhangers.
> 
>  _I really like cliffhangers._ Ohoho.
> 
> As always, I absolutely adore comments, and I appreciate every single kudos ;w; <33


	4. Spice of Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bam! Kapow! Update!
> 
> I'm leaving tomorrow to visit family for a week, so I won't have time to work on this fic. Because of that, I decided to buckle down and finish chapter 4 before I leave! So here it is~ ;q;

This wasn't something that he could treat lightly. Going to the coach or manager-- going to _anyone_ \-- would clearly by out of line. Being an omega, Sugawara knew what a personal matter it was. It was no one's business but their own, no matter what society said. Managing a heat was an omega's job, and if they could do that, then it really wasn't anyone else's concern whether they even were an omega. 

So when he was stuck on the sidelines, watching his own team go up against Nekoma, Sugawara felt restless-- and more helpless than he had in a long time. Seeing Tsukishima play was like an observer's sport on its own, trying to notice anything that might give him a solid answer. Because even with what little information he had, he wasn't _certain_ yet.

Mind divided between the game and studying Tsukishima, Sugawara was completely unprepared when Nekoma scored the winning point of the set. Startled out of his concentration, the setter watched as Karasuno drifted off of the court. Their faces ranged from dejected to resolute, more than ready to take on the second set and win it. Sugawara was more absorbed with catching Tsukishima.

Trotting over to where the middle blocker was receiving a bottle of water from Kiyoko, Sugawara planted himself in front of the taller boy, looking up at him. Looking a bit surprised-- and put off by the third year's determined glower-- Tsukishima glanced around briefly, like looking for someone else that might be in trouble, before glancing down at the setter again. "Is something wrong?" he finally asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"I need to talk to you," Sugawara said, falling silent as Hinata and Takana bounded past them, yelling about that final spike. Hesitating, Sugawara stared after them, before looking back up at Tsukishima. "In private. After the match?"

A distasteful look crossed Tsukishima's face. "... I don't see why that would be necessary," he responded, and Sugawara detected the caution behind those words. They almost struck a cord with him, back when he was first figuring out how to deal with being an omega.

"Please?" Offering a smile, trying to placate the younger member, Sugawara sprinkled on some of that puppy-eyed pleading. "It shouldn't take long."

As always, Tsukishima practically shied away from the expression. "Sure," he muttered, glancing aside before excusing himself politely and walking away. Letting out a sigh of relief, Sugawara watched him go, studying his back. Could someone like Tsukishima really be an omega? It almost seemed silly, but... 

"Bokuto-san!" The cry drew his attention and he looked across toe gym, to another court in use. Someone from Shinzen was on his knees, hunched over with both hands covering his face. Even from this far, Sugawara could see speckles of red on the hardwood beneath him.

"Sorry! Sorry!" The Fukurodani captain was ducking under the net, hurrying across to the downed player. "Are you okay?" He looked startled, out of sorts as the Shinzen captain helped his teammate to his feet.

Drifting a few feet until he stood by Daichi, who was staring across (along with everyone else in the gym now), Sugawara murmured, "What happened?"

"The Fukurodani ace spiked him in the face," Daichi responded quietly, and Sugawara winced. Said ace was hovering about the group of Shinzen players supporting their hurt companion, looking worried and frazzled and completely out of sorts.

"Bokuto-san, please step back," Akaashi said, grabbing his captain's sleeve and pulling him away. "They don't need you getting in the way."

"I didn't mean to," the ace mumbled, looking distressed. "It was an accident. I didn't mean to hit it at him like that."

"I know. Come on." With a little more coaxing, Akaashi managed to pull his captain away from the Shinzen members as they attended to their teammate. 

"A spike in the face-- from a top five ace..." Asahi looked anxious, like he could feel Bokuto's grief. 

"That's gotta hurt like _hell_ ," Nishinoya exclaimed, unhelpfully. "His nose was gushing blood and everything."

"Noya-san _please_ ," Asahi murmured, grimacing. 

"Sorry!" the libero piped up, not sounding all that apologetic. 

"Hey~!" A call from behind brought them all turning around, blinking at the Nekoma captain. "You should pay attention to your own match before worrying about theirs, shouldn't you?" A lazy grin pulled across his features. "We Tokyo locals can take a hit, so don't get too distracted." 

"No way!" Hinata hollered, "We're not distracted!!"

"Good!" a new voice bellowed, and Hinata jumped outrageously high at the interruption of the tall Nekoma first year.

"Lev!!" 

_Everything they say is with an exclamation point, isn't it?_ Sugawara thought to himself with a chuckle, looking back towards the Shinzen team. The hurt boy had a wad of paper towels shoved against his face, but he was talking to the Fukurodani captain (and, from the looks of it, trying to calm _him_ down). It would take more than that to disrupt the relationship that the four Tokyo teams had with each other, after all of those years of training camps. 

A whistle blew to call Nekoma and Karasuno back to the court for their second set. Turning, Sugawara returned to his place on the sidelines, his gaze once more finding Tsukishima. In spite of his suspicions, the first year didn't seem to be showing any symptoms at all... 

(His poor temperament could be attributed to his usual attitude, so Sugawara didn't count it.) 

"Suga?" Glancing up to find Daichi at his side, Sugawara smiled in question. "You were distracted during the first set."

"Sorry," he responded, one hand drifting out until their knuckles brushed lightly. "I'm watching someone."

They share a long look, communicating more than Sugawara was willing to say in words. Finally, Daichi nodded and trotted back out onto the court.

Lowering himself slowly into a crouch, Sugawara propped his elbows on his knees and rested his chin against his hands, watching Tsukishima closely.

* * *

Pacing restlessly, feeling like he was being pulled in eight different directions, Bokuto dragged both hands through his hair, eyes narrowed towards the ground. There was an impulse, just under the skin at the tips of his fingers, on the knife's edge of his tongue, haunting the back of his skull, and he couldn't reach it for the life of him. The urge to run, to shout, to strike something was almost overwhelming. Every breath he took was deep, filling his lungs before huffing it out impatiently. Twisting around, changing direction again, he made it to the end of the locker room before stopping. Tugging at the front of his jersey, he tried to stifle the roaring agitation making his muscles twitch.

The door opened and he turned, blinking slowly-- almost drowsily-- in the direction of the boy stepping in. "Akaashi?" Bokuto distinctly remembered his setter sending him to the locker room halfway through the third set of their match against Shinzen. Was the game already over? It was almost disappointing, how little the Fukurodani team truly needed him for their victories. 

Akaashi crossed towards him, pulling Bokuto's hands away from his hair and studying his features. There was something in that analytical gaze that suddenly had Bokuto surging forward, crashing their mouths together in a rough, compulsive kiss. Rather than scold him for being careless, Akaashi seemed to give into it. Feeling the setter relax slightly against him only drove Bokuto forward, backing Akaashi up until he hit the lockers. 

Pulling back enough to pant in a hot breath, Bokuto nuzzled against the other's face, lips drawing back slightly in a silent growl. "Akaashi," he mumbled, parting his lips against the beta's before delving in for another hard kiss. 

Everything about Akaashi drew him in, made him crave the other; his muted reactions, those rare expressions that only Bokuto had access to-- that only Bokuto could cause. His teeth pulled at Akaashi's lip, hands flattening along the setter's lean stomach and sliding down the front of his shorts. 

There was something about the beta's calm compliance that felt off, though, and Bokuto's vehemence tapered off slowly until he was only nibbling Akaashi's lower lip, nuzzling closer, trying to coax him into... something. The behavior was appeasement, something he wouldn't consciously understand. 

Akaashi understood it, but he still didn't respond until Bokuto mumbled some sort of whining plea against his lips. "You're reacting to omega pheromones," he said quietly, and he watched as the information registered in his captain's gaze.

"Someone in heat?" Bokuto huffed, attentive enough now to maintain some semblance of a conversation, despite his ceaselessly wandering hands.

"Don't think about them. You're the one who's playing violently." Bokuto's features caved in on themselves with guilt, eyes dropping. His ministrations ceased, pulling away away a bit, withdrawing his hands slightly. Even in this context, Bokuto was just as easily discouraged. "So," Akaashi murmured, reaching up to tilt Bokuto's face towards his own. "We need to calm you down."

Bokuto studied Akaashi's eyes for several moments. "Oho? Blow off some steam?" Akaashi nodded, and with a low growl, Bokuto immediately dove back in.

* * *

Tsukishima wasn't avoiding Sugawara. 

It didn't matter that, after the match against Nekoma, he went straight for the doors. It didn't matter that he knew Sugawara would spend some time cheering Karasuno up after their loss of the second consecutive set. It didn't matter that he picked up food before even taking a shower. It didn't matter that he went outside to eat his dinner, without even changing out of his jersey.

Tsukishima Kei was _not_ avoiding Sugawara. 

Glowering at the grass between his feet, he nibbled at his meal, not bothering with chopsticks when he was alone outside. Of course he wasn't avoiding Sugawara, why would he?

_Because he knows._

Waving off the pesky thought, Tsukishima bit down on another morsel. There was no way that Sugawara, or _anyone_ for that matter, could possibly know. 

It was a coincidence that he'd been hungry. And he'd spent lunch yesterday sitting out here, so there was nothing conspicuous about it. He wasn't avoiding Sugawara.

Of course he was avoiding Sugawara. Cradling his head in both hands, Tsukishima hissed out a breath. Sugawara suspected, he knew that. How could he shake off that suspicion? Surely not by avoiding him. Ugh. 

This long after taking the suppressants, Tsukishima could tell that they weren't at their strongest. Closing his eyes, he pulled his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. The symptoms wouldn't begin to surface for another few hours, but his body was beginning to feel the heat. Deep in his gut there was a desire for comfort, warmth, company of the type that Tsukishima did _not_ ever crave. In the last few hours of the affect of the suppressants, the heat slowly began to re-manifest, building up as though resurfacing. The first stage of subconsciously wanting to prepare for it-- then the true symptoms, the fever and restlessness and agitation-- and finally the debilitating arousal.

Thankfully he wasn't even close to the second stage, but the first could be just as inhibiting for someone so used to composure as Tsukishima. He depended on being in complete control of his faculties; any bit of interference to that could throw him completely off of his game. Thinking things through, coming up with decisions he could be confident in, those were difficult to do when he wasn't sure of just how much influence his heat could be having on his mind. 

And that kind of doubt could also very well be an affect of the heat messing with his thoughts. To someone like Tsukishima, who only ever trusted himself... it was hard to find that he couldn't do that now. The obvious solution might've been to find someone else he could trust.

But the sensible part of his mind wasn't _that_ clouded over yet.

* * *

Although he took each corner carefully, keeping an eye out for Sugawara, Tsukishima managed to look casual about it. Making it to the kitchen and returning his plate and tray, he glanced about the near-empty cafeteria. No one he knew was there, which was convenient, and he left just as easily as he'd come in. 

Even knowing that avoiding Sugawara wasn't the best way to handle this development, Tsukishima had decided to do just that, at least for the rest of today. That would be difficult considering that Karasuno had another two matches scheduled before lights-out, but he'd already found Kiyoko and quietly explained that he wasn't feeling well. She'd nodded in understanding, and he knew she would take care of excusing him from the games. 

If he could play it off as being sick, then Sugawara wouldn't suspect him of being an omega. And, Tsukishima knew, if he could talk to Sugawara tonight-- after taking the suppressants and ensuring their affects were at their strongest-- then he could be more confident in his deceptions. Being good on his toes was something Tsukishima prided himself on, but he couldn't think as quickly as he would need to in order to deflect Sugawara if the "team mother" was worried about him. 

Eyes narrowing slightly, Tsukishima dragged a hand up the back of his head. This was all way too troublesome. Why the hell had his heat struck so early? If everything had just gone according to plan, nothing else that had gone wrong would've mattered. 

Turning the corner, he recognized Yamaguchi before the other noticed him. Turning on a dime, Tsukishima went in the opposite direction, unwilling to talk with his friend at that point. He already felt a little bad about how little he'd been talking to Yamaguchi these last few days, but the other knew him better than anyone. Tsukishima didn't doubt for a minute that Yamaguchi would figure it out, if he really thought about it. Surely by now he'd noticed that something was off about Tsukishima, though he probably wasn't thinking hard enough about it to realize what it meant. Still, with enough time...

No, Tsukishima couldn't spend too much time around Yamaguchi-- someone who could see through him, who understood him. There was no one quite like Yamaguchi.

"Hey, Tsukki." No one _quite_ like him. 

But, recently, Tsukishima had found someone that understood him a bit better than he liked.

* * *

"You're tiring me out," Kenma repeated for the tenth time that day. Kuroo's constant motion was making the setter dizzy, and he rolled over, pulling a pillow closer to himself. "Go for a walk."

"Mm." Kuroo's mind felt disconnected, wandering through the sky rather than occupying his own head. Glancing at his friend, he studied Kenma's back, then gave mercy and stepped out of the room. The setter liked to doze between matches when his games were dead, and Kuroo had been keeping him awake with his pacing. 

Closing the door quietly behind himself, the captain turned and shoved both hands into his pockets, starting down the hall. Maybe he'd get a snack (although they'd just finished dinner). Or he could go watch some of the matches, maybe hit the ball against the wall a few times. Or he could even hunt down Lev and torment the other with some one-on-one practice. The thought made him grin lazily. 

His legs were taking him in the direction of the cafeteria, so he decided to steal some food and then go find Lev. The first-year needed some more practice, after all.

Turning the corner, Kuroo looked up in time to see a familiar tall figure disappearing down an adjacent hall. Feeling his Cheshire grin widen slightly, he trotted to the turn and caught up to the blond with five long strides.

"Hey, Tsukki," he purred, eyes locked onto the back of the first-year's head. Craving the other's deadpan expression, he only felt validation as Tsukishima turned slowly and those flat golden eyes found his. "Aw, don't look at me like that."

"Can I help you?" Tsukishima asked with that faux-sweet tone.

"Sure." Kuroo cracked a grin, throwing an arm over Tsukishima's shoulder and reveling in the way it made him twitch. "I was just heading to get some food, but maybe you could entertain me instead."

"I'm not that entertaining." Raising a hand, Tsukishima plucked at the sleeve of Kuroo's jacket like it was dirty and lifted the other's arm from his shoulder. 

"Sure you are," Kuroo insisted, letting his arm be removed as he leaned closer. Tsukishima leaned back, eyes sliding away to avoid looking at Kuroo. "Maybe we can hit the ball a few times."

"Neither of us is a setter," Tsukishima pointed out. Kuroo could see discomfort under the surface of his averted eyes, but it was well-hidden, as always. Even his tone and words belied no trace of Tsukishima's feelings.

"We can volley it back and forth." Tsukishima's eyes dropped towards the ground, and his lashes were almost long enough to hide the colour of his irises from Kuroo's view looking down on him. 

Glancing back up at Kuroo, the other inclined his head. "I'm really not feeling up to it," the first-year said flippantly, eyes falling shut in a fake smile. "Sorry." With that he moved to eject himself from the discussion.

"Come on, Tsukki," Kuroo heard himself say, watching as he extended an arm and flattened his palm against the wall, cutting Tsukishima off. "Don't you want to improve?"

"That's not what you want." Those golden eyes were on him again, though they burned now. "Get off of me."

Blinking, Kuroo felt his head swimming slightly, like he was surfacing from underwater. He realized he had Tsukishima backed against the wall, both arms barring him there.

Jerking his hands back and taking a quick step away, Kuroo stared at the other with an uncharacteristically stark expression of surprise. "I--" He'd been moving without thinking a lot, hadn't he? But to not even notice himself pinning someone to a wall... "... Sorry, Tsukki," he said finally, flashing a grin. 

Tsukishima's eyes were studying his, warily, before he muttered, "It's fine," and peeled himself off of the wall, walking away. There was a bit of haste in his step that Kuroo noticed immediately, watching after the other. 

He stared until Tsukishima disappeared around the corner, then snapped out of the trance and shook his head hard. He'd noticed the sweat on Tsukishima's palms, remembered with sharp clarity the faintest touch of pink on Tsukishima's soft pale skin, the way his breath had stirred Tsukishima's bangs--

Clapping both hands to his face hard, Kuroo furrowed his brows angrily at the blush rising to his cheeks. What the hell was that? Head twitching slightly, trying to shake the odd feeling from his suddenly-crowded mind, Kuroo turned and started down the hall towards the cafeteria. 

The first thing he noticed when stepping in was Yaku standing by the snack shelves, a package in his hand. The Fukurodani setter was standing with him, and they looked to be having a long discussion.

The two looked up as he approached, and he offered his signature lazy grin. "Hey." 

Yaku nodded towards him, pulling open his bag of chips and stepping away. With a wave to Akaashi, he headed towards the door, enjoying his snack.

"Occupying my libero's time well, I hope?" Kuroo asked Akaashi as he scanned the shelves for an appealing treat.

"You should have told Bokuto and I that you had another alpha on your team." Akaashi was to-the-point, as always, though the exact point that he had chosen to bring up was a surprise. After several moments, Kuroo straightened slowly, glancing at the setter. 

"... I know." Raising a hand slowly to the back of his neck, he studied Akaashi's features. "I didn't think it would be important yet. Sorry."

Akaashi nodded, his way of accepting the apology, though he said nothing. "It's important now."

Brows furrowing slightly, Kuroo lowered his arm, listening to what Akaashi had to say.

* * *

Once he ascertained that the room he was sharing with the rest of the Karasuno team was empty of them, Tsukishima stepped in and closed the door carefully behind himself. After half an hour of wandering the camp, he'd realized that it would make more sense to just go to the room instead of risking bumping into someone. After all, it was just the first inklings of his heat making him so restless, and he was determined to curb it at every pass. Unfortunately, it wasn't until he got to the room and stepped towards his futon that something occurred to him; this, too, was a desire of his heat-- to curl up and doze and be comfortable.

Scowling slightly, Tsukishima considered storming out. Damn this heat. 

In the end, though, he crossed the room and yanked his shirt off over his head. Draping it over his bag, he settled down on his bedding and laid back to stare at the ceiling. Whatever. If Sugawara found him sleeping, he was sure that the third-year would leave him alone. He was so keen on caring for anyone that waking up someone who might be sick would probably make him combust. 

It was only 6pm, but the temptation to take a nap was too strong to deny. Anyway, that was the point of hiding here; if Sugawara came in and he was awake, then there was nothing to keep him from asking questions.

After a little while of trying to get comfortable, though, Tsukishima reached out for Yamaguchi's pillow-- and stopped. No, he did _not_ need anymore pillows. Glowering, he snatched his hand back and instead grabbed his phone from his bag. Slumping back, he pulled up a game, fiddling around with that for a while.

Only when his eyelids were starting to feel heavy, and he finally yawned, did Tsukishima put the phone away. He'd wasted almost an hour online, reading articles and looking up things he didn't care about. Soon enough, the overly-loud Karasuno team would come barging in, ready for bed after a long day of practice. 

Rolling over, he shut his eyes, and began nodding off. It struck him suddenly that he had to set his alarm for the morning-- his next pill was due at 5am, two hours before the teams woke up every day-- but an extra wave of exhaustion flooded through him. Already half-asleep, he reasoned drowsily that the thundering of clumsy elephants (aka his teammates) would wake him up soon enough. Sugawara wouldn't try to talk to him in front of anyone, and Tsukishima could set his phone alarm before just going back to sleep. With his heat still lingering just under the skin, a few extra hours of sleep would do him good.

In his semiconscious state, Tsukishima was satisfied with his plan, and he drifted off to sleep only seconds later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There, see? That ending wasn't so bad. No heart-pounding cliffhangers this time.
> 
> Thank you so much for all of your Kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions, and comments!! It makes me super happy to know that so many people are enjoying this fic.
> 
> I love comments, and I'm always willing to answer questions! You guys give me life <3


	5. Step One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Enjoy UwU
> 
> Update: I'm currently in my last few weeks of the semester, so I don't have much time to be writing. I'll definitely be updating Meltdown as soon as possible, though! Thank you for your patience!

Waking was slow and difficult, but consciousness was trickling back into his mind. Tsukishima could feel himself shivering, like it was winter and he had kicked his blanket off of the bed again and there would be frost on the window. But he wasn't cold.

Huffing out a shaky breath, he dragged the blanket closer to his face, curling up tightly. Toes curling, he shifted restlessly, feeling something dragging him back to reality. Something insistent and undeniable and it wasn't taking 'no' for an answer. 

_Ah. My heat._ Drowsily, he rolled over and reached for his bedside table. It wasn't the first time he'd been woken by it, and his body moved on reflex to grab the vibrator by his lamp. They were scattered all around his room, within reach at all times no matter where he was standing or sitting or laying. But when his fingers scraped against empty hardwood flooring, he lifted his head and squinted his eyes open, blinking and trying to find his table.

Everything slowed down, seconds ticking by in the back of his mind as he stared out into the open room. Not his bedroom. 

_The training camp._

**Day 4.**

As the world started to speed up again, he felt his heart palpitating, pounding in his chest, and his entire body jerked in alarm.

_**My heat--** _

Sunlight was filtering in through the blinds and he sat bolt upright, eyes wide and mouth open as he struggled to regulate his breathing. What time was it? It had to be morning, the sun had set by the time he'd laid down to take his nap. 

His nap. Looking to his left, he saw the rest of the Karasuno team in their futons, all deep asleep. At the end was Sugawara, _the culprit_ , and Tsukishima's mind was awhirl with a hurricane of thoughts and realizations and he was in the full swing of his heat. 

His grip seized against the blanket and he gasped in the back of his throat. Fumbling with his bag, fingers trembling, he dropped his phone and the screen lit up to tell him it was half past six. An hour and a half late for the pills. Thirty minutes before the coaches started their rounds of waking up the teams. 

Bangs plastered to his forehead, he somehow got his glasses on, somehow found his aspirin bottle, and somehow made it to his feet before feeling the weakness in his legs. There was wetness on his thigh and he grabbed the back of his pants, pushing them against his skin to try and keep it from dripping. 

Walking stiffly out of the room, he hurried down the hall, passed the bathroom, and stood anxiously in the middle of the hallway, unable to stop the shivering overtaking his entire body. What now? Where could he go? There was too much to think about, and his mind was trying to figure everything out at once--

_the heat suppressants would take forever to kick in if he was this far gone into his heat_

_everyone would notice his absence and start looking for him if he was gone for too long_

_they were going to find out he's an omega_

_there are **alphas** here_

_Sugawara was an omega he should have just listened to the older boy's advice who cares if one person knows_

_the backup equipment closet._

His legs were taking him down the hall, towards the least-populated end of the building. There was plenty of equipment in the main gymnasium's storage closet, so there was no reason for people to go for backups. It was with a panicked desperation that he reasoned with himself, stumbling partway down the hall before catching himself against a door frame. Clutching the pill bottle tighter, he forced himself to continue, turn left, stop at the door on the right, push the door open, step inside. Shoving it shut behind himself, staggering forward, he finally felt his knees buckle and he dropped to the ground. 

Hunching forward, dropping the pill bottle, Tsukishima shoved both hands down towards his groin and clutched at his own heated crotch, head dropping with a sharp gasp at the stimulation. Shuddering, squeezing tighter, he bit his lip to stifle a needy whimper, disdaining the sound. 

Legs twitching, he managed to get into a sitting position, hands working restlessly against himself as he tried to muffle his startled little moans and hisses of pleasure. It didn't occur to him to reach under his pants at first, but as soon as he did he yanked his hands away. He couldn't jerk off here!

Swallowing down the lump of desperation in his throat, Tsukishima fumbled with the pill bottle, barely managing to pick it up before he set towards the task of trying to open it. The shivering stopped only long enough for him to feel the full force of a heat flash, and he nearly dropped the bottle again. Instinctively he moved to pull out the collar of his shirt, only to find that he wasn't wearing one. He'd walked through half of the camp topless without even noticing. A humourless, pained laugh passed his lips. He really was so far gone.

 _Something_ sent a surge of arousal through him and he almost crumpled. Wetness flooded inside of him and he clenched helplessly, feeling it leaking out anyway. Without thinking he lifted his eyes to the door, panting hard, heart slamming against his ribcage. Why? What was there?

The door creaked and Tsukishima froze, breath catching in his throat.

Someone was coming in.

* * *

He'd known it as soon as he woke up. Or rather, his body had. The subconscious was a fickle thing, not always forthcoming. After getting himself some early breakfast and spiking the ball against the wall a few times, though, it had struck him. 

Once he realized it, he abandoned the gymnasium and started hunting through the halls. Again his body knew better than he did, and when he found himself standing outside of the backup equipment closet, he knew what was inside. There was something he should be considering-- the courtesy of giving them privacy, the responsibility of finding an adult-- but they were drowned out by instinct.

Grabbing the door, he pulled it open slowly. The light of the hall fell over Tsukishima's shaking figure, blocked in part by the tall figure standing in the doorway. 

Eyes narrowing marginally, Kuroo didn't move in at first. Tsukishima's eyes were locked on him, but not with the usual venom; they were foggy, unfocused, probably barely seeing Kuroo at all. Finally Kuroo stepped inside, closing the door slowly behind himself to keep out nosy passers-by.

"Tsukki--"

Twitching slightly, the blond seemed to snap out of his daze, dropping his eyes to the pill bottle between his feet. Grabbing it, he set to trying to twist the cap off. His fingers were trembling.

" _Tsukki_." Those eyes flicked up to him again, though clearer this time; the golden irises were almost eclipsed by blown-out pupils, and Kuroo felt something clench in his gut. Forcing himself to ignore it, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Don't." Tsukishima's voice was all kinds of broken up and unsteady, but it held that same bite in the tone. "It's _nothing_. I've got it under control."

" _This_ is under control?" Kuroo burst out before thinking about his words. 

"Just go away," Tsukishima growled, trying to wrench the pill bottle open and failing. 

"Go away? You want me to leave you alone like this." Stopping suddenly, though, Kuroo stared down at the pill bottle more closely. Aspirin? That wouldn't do anything for a heat. "You need to go home."

"I _don't_!" The Karasuno blocker shot him a vicious glare, and consequently lost his grip on the bottle. He grabbed it up immediately, looking startled.

Finally, Kuroo caught on, and he froze. "Heat suppressants?"

Tsukishima's eyes narrowed, and he didn't look up from the task of opening the bottle.

"How long have you been taking _heat suppressants_?" he demanded, taking a step forward. Tsukishima flinched, just slightly, but Kuroo noticed and ceased his advance.

"Since... the training camp started," he managed, and Kuroo's eyes widened.

"That's four days!" Granted, as an alpha, he wasn't as well-acquainted with the rules of heat suppressants. But four days seemed excessive.

"It's _fine_ ," Tsukishima ground out, though there was a catch of desperation in his voice as he, once again, failed to open the bottle. 

"Tsukki--"

The lid popped off and Tsukishima tilted it nearly upside-down into his other hand. Several pills fell out. For a moment Kuroo thought he would take them all, but Tsukishima dumped all but one back in and put it in his mouth, dry-swallowing. Kuroo watched his throat working over it, before dragging his gaze back up to Tsukishima's face. That wasn't much better, but he kept his eyes there.

"You're an omega." Although it was obvious by this point, Tsukishima still looked away. "You haven't told anyone, have you?" Those vibrant golden eyes narrowed, and Kuroo didn't need anymore answer than that. 

"What are you waiting for?" Finding those eyes on himself suddenly, Kuroo almost twitched away.

"What?" But he knew. He just didn't want to hear it.

"Your hands are shaking." Kuroo clenched his fists. "You're sweating." And, lifting a hand, Tsukishima pointed at Kuroo's shorts. "And _that_. What are you waiting for? An invitation? You won't get one."

Kuroo's entire body jerked, and Tsukishima reacted in much the same way, flinching back. "I won't rape you!" Kuroo hissed, and Tsukishima blinked at him.

That cynical grin tugged at his features, eyes crinkling slightly. " _Rape_? It's not rape. It's _nature_. Isn't it?" 

Kuroo was familiar with the argument. It had been the subject of debate for years. Did having sex with an omega in heat constitute rape if they didn't give explicit permission without hormones flooding their brains? 

"No." Kuroo didn't move from where he was, and Tsukishima studied him almost warily.

It was impossible to deal with Kuroo like this. A fresh flash of arousal struck him and Tsukishima doubled over, gasping and clutching at his own arms. Startled, concerned, Kuroo almost stepped forward, though forced himself to stop. It wasn't concern that made him want to be closer to Tsukishima. 

Neither of them knew how long they stayed like that, Tsukishima shaking and Kuroo holding himself back. He should leave, just stand guard outside the door, but he couldn't bring himself to move. 

Tsukishima felt more heat spill in his pants and he let out a strangled mixture of a laugh and a groan. This was so much worse than he had ever felt before (though maybe he thought that every time he went into heat). But having an _alpha_ near him-- in the same damn room as him-- he knew his body was reacting to that. Damn it. And he didn't have any of his "tools". 

Heat flooded through his body again and he almost went limp, swallowing a desperate sob. Fuck, it was so bad. He wanted to tell Kuroo to get out, to go far away, but he didn't trust himself to speak.

 _No._ Don't go away.

Those wandering golden eyes found Kuroo through his bangs, and the Nekoma captain looked back uncertainly. Without that aggravatingly smug grin, Kuroo wasn't so bad.

"Fine." Kuroo blinked, eyes clearing a bit, though he didn't move. " _Kuroo-san_ ," he hissed out, voice catching once. "Please--"

When he said nothing else, Kuroo hesitated, staring at him. Everything in his body screamed for him to move, but he didn't. "Tsukki..."

"Shut up." Squeezing his eyes shut briefly, Tsukishima waited for a new flash of heat and desire to dissipate enough for him to speak. "Shut up. I know what I'm doing. Fucking help me."

Hearing it so plainly, Kuroo couldn't stop his body from taking a lurching step forward. There was something in his eyes that hadn't been there before-- a blankness, an emptiness. A hunger. He was just on the precipice, ready to give up on holding himself back. Ready to give in.

"Kuroo-san--" Lips drawing back slightly, Tsukishima hugged his arms tightly to himself, shuddering as heat and arousal filled him up. " _Fuck me_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3c


	6. Impulse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really appreciate your patience while I finished the semester, everyone! Here is my official thank-you ;w;
> 
> Please enjoy the chapter UwU

Kuroo surged forward, common sense evaporating without another moment's hesitation. As soon as he was standing in front of Tsukishima he dropped to his knees, hands moving of their own accord to grab Tsukishima's shoulders, to drag him closer. Lips drawing back, Kuroo opened his mouth wide, face hovering scant inches over Tsukishima's as he breathed in the other's air, breathed in his scent, and felt it shoot straight through his core. "Fuck," he hissed, fingers digging in as he ducked his head and lurched forward, pushing his face up against Tsukishima's neck and inhaling sharply. 

It smelled so good, set his nerves on fire and left him tingling. The instant he'd stepped into this room, arousal had begun to haunt him-- but this close, this close to Tsukishima it was a force of nature in full swing.

He could hear Tsukishima's breath over his head, hard and ragged and... stressed. Without thinking, Kuroo pressed his mouth up against the other's neck, gently, his hands sliding down the omega's arms and curling his fingers around Tsukishima's wrists, brushing his thumbs reassuringly against the other's pulse. Every inch of him strained forward, ached for Tsukishima, to strip his shorts off and _take_ , but Kuroo restrained himself. There was little he could do this far in, but he could at least take it slowly, slower than his brain is howling at him to go. 

Slowly the tension melted from Tsukishima's body and he heard the other whine in the back of his throat, felt fingers suddenly tangling in his hair and squeezing. "Kuroo-san-- K..." Kuroo's hand dropped away from Tsukishima's wrist, planting itself hard against his hip and clutching there. 

"Tsukki," he mumbled, a trace of a growl in his voice as he bared his teeth again in sheer effort. Christ, Tsukki smelled so _good_.

Distantly, there was a sense of guilt. For someone who had worked so hard to learn to control this, he wasn't putting up much of a fight. Was that really consent Tsukishima had given him? A heat-addled mind wasn't reliable in that regard, or at least that's what Kuroo had always believed. Omegas had been fighting for years that heat-spurred consent wasn't consent at all, and who was in a better position to decide that than omegas? It wasn't up to alphas to make that choice for them, or even betas.

Yet here he was, sucking at Tsukishima's neck, panting hard and straining forward, fingers digging into the other's skin at every point of contact. 

It was because Tsukishima knew what he was saying, he told himself. Tsukishima was smart enough, had enough control over himself, was self-aware enough even in his heat to know the difference between what he wanted in a moment and what he would regret in the long-term. He could trust what Tsukishima said, even in his heat. 

That's what he told himself. 

Later on he would reprimand himself for trying to make it Tsukishima's fault, for trying to displace the responsibility. Later.

" _Kuroo-san_." Tsukishima's voice sounded tense, though there was a frantic waver in it, his fingernails scraping at the Nekoma captain's scalp. "Please--" He'd never imagined Tsukishima to be the type to beg. 

Shaking the other's hands off, Kuroo pulled back and reached down to shove his own shorts down around his knees, panting under his breath. Tsukishima slumped back, sweat sticking his bangs to his forehead, eyes dazed and dilated as they wandered briefly before finding Kuroo and settling on him. "H-- hurry up," he managed, an edge of a growl in his voice, that familiar tone of impatience, though it trailed off into a hitched whine. 

Kuroo didn't need to be told twice. There was a crowd of impatience in his mind, driving him forward, giving his eyes that flat, predatory glint. The instant Tsukishima saw it though he froze, lips parting and breath catching in his throat. Kuroo could _hear_ his heart skip, saw the way his throat worked as he swallowed. And he saw a glimmer of fear, alarm, realization, in Tsukishima's eyes, the onset of sudden panic.

It snapped him out of it faster than anything else could have, eyes clearing enough that he could stop his hands before they reached Tsukishima's shorts. "Tsukki," he whispered, redirecting his hands upwards, to cup Tsukishima's face, leaning over him so their noses brushed. "Tsukki, it's me."

"Alpha," Tsukishima mumbled, though his eyes had lost that bright fear. Then, clenching his jaw, the blond ground out, " _Damn it_ ," as his fingers dug into Kuroo's hips. Tsukishima didn't want to have to do this, Kuroo could see that much, and it had him drawing back slightly. Could he stop? He had to, he couldn't bear it if he forced Tsukki--

"Don't," Tsukishima muttered, that stiffness draining from his shoulders slowly. "Fuck. I need it, please..." 

He didn't want to have to. But he had to. Kuroo didn't know how to feel about that, hesitating still. Every inch of him screamed _forward_ , but that's why he'd spent the last two years of his life learning to tell those parts _shut up_. 

"Kuroo-san." Gaze softening slightly, Kuroo tried to regulate his breathing, finding that he couldn't quite manage it. "I know... fuck. I don't want to fucking do this. I never wanted to do this but _fuck_ , fuck, _please_ ," and his voice was cracking. "I _need_ it, I need you to, please, god _damn_ it--" His voice broke off into a sudden sob, and Kuroo could smell the fresh flood of lubrication inside of the omega.

Slowly his fingers found the waistband of Tsukishima's short, and with a swift yank he pulled them out from beneath the other's rump. He was _dripping_ , leaking, and the shorts were soaked with it. "Fuck," Kuroo breathed, feeling himself go dizzy at the potent scent. 

If he stopped now, threw himself backwards and ran out, maybe...

" _Kuroo_ -san," Tsukishima bit out through his clenched jaw, and those fingers dug into his hips hard enough to bruise, for the nails to break the skin. "Just _fucking_ fuck me!" 

Kuroo let go. His hand flew from Tsukishima's hip to his thigh, shoving the leg up and dragging himself up between the other's legs. Tsukishima parted his legs immediately, slouching a bit, gasping for breath. The instant Kuroo was lined up he jerked his hips forward, feeling his cock slide through the slick, slipping between Tsukishima's cheeks. The other sobbed in frustration, practically writhing, and instinctively Kuroo's free hand slammed down on his hip, pinning him in place. The blond froze, throwing his head back and clenching his hands into fists, digging his knuckles into Kuroo's sides.

The next try struck home, and Kuroo slammed in to the hilt with no resistance. Still, Tsukishima's voice spiked into a shrill cry, head thrown back and spine bowing up. Kuroo bared his teeth, pupils blowing out at the tight heat, the hot wetness, clamping down over him. Shuddering, moaning, Tsukishima scrabbled at Kuroo's shoulders, trying to drag him closer. Half-heard gasps and pleas only caught a fraction of his attention as he ground up deep into that warmth, shoving his face into Tsukishima's neck again and breathing him in. Fuck.

"K-Kuroo-san, please, fuck--" Tsukishima couldn't shut up, no matter how much he wanted to, chest hitching. It felt like warmth, life, like something _real_ , like all the heats before had been mediocre dress-rehearsals for this main event, like his toys (fuck it, they were sex toys) had been cheap replacements for the star of the show. And, well, at least that last one was true. "Oh _god_." Having an alpha's cock inside of him felt like nothing he'd ever imagined. 

"God, you smell amazing, Tsukki." The thickness in Kuroo's voice, the growl in his throat, were completely uncharacteristic for the Nekoma captain. Everything about him screamed _aggression_ , the way he bared his teeth with mouth wide open, the hand he had sliding up Tsukishima's torso, gripping Tsukishima's shoulder as he held him in place and breathed him in, ready to bite down at a moment's impulse.

Somehow, Tsukishima had it in him to feel irritated by the other's hunger, desire, assertiveness. Normally at this point in his heat he was completely beyond anything but a frantic desperation for release. There was a presence of mind he had right now that he'd never felt before during a heat. 

The presence of an alpha-- could that be it? Kuroo's body would release as many pheromones as Tsukishima's. An omega's pheromones attracted alphas and aroused them; an alpha's were released as a natural response to the omega's heat, to make them stop searching for another alpha. Tsukishima had never felt this aware of himself in the middle of his heat. Having Kuroo over him, body radiating fever and arousal, had soothed his heat-- no, not quite soothed, but gave him an outlet to channel that desperation. It _focused_ his arousal, and to a degree, that almost made it seem less intense. Just a little, but even that tiny bit of relief made worlds of difference for Tsukishima, who'd suffered through every heat since his first completely alone. 

But only a little less intense still meant it was enough to drive him out of his own mind. 

"Fuck!" he sobbed, squeezing his eyes shut as Kuroo leaned closer, near enough for Tsukishima to throw his arms around the other's shoulders and cling on. "Fuck, harder," he gasped, and the next thrust had him howling. Immediately he jammed his mouth against Kuroo's neck to muffle himself, yelping and crying against the skin. Every inch of him was on _fire_ , Kuroo was burning him inside-out, there was no way he could handle this for any longer.

But he did, every second he endured made it worse and better and he was choking, body moving in tandem with Kuroo's against him. Hips rolling, his free leg dragging up to wrap around Kuroo's waist and drag him _closer_ , plunging him deeper and making Tsukishima scream hoarsely against Kuroo's neck. 

"Shit, Tsukki, Tsukki," Kuroo hissed, dragging his teeth against the other's ear and feeling him stiffen. 

Dazedly, Tsukishima's desperation wound slowly down-- no, that wasn't quite true. His reactions wound down, but every inch of him was ablaze, searing with need. Rather, it felt like he'd lost the energy to respond, panting open-mouthed against Kuroo's skin, eyes squeezed shut and brows furrowed, arms clinging tightly but weakly to Kuroo's shoulders as he plowed into the omega. God, he couldn't take anymore. When he tried to hiss Kuroo's name, it came out hoarse. His head drooped, forehead pressing against Kuroo's shoulder as he gasped and panted for breath. 

It never ended. Did it take him this long to fuck his own orgasm out of himself at home? He'd tried to time that before, had gotten to-- to an hour? God don't let this last an hour, the prospect had him moaning miserably. 

"Tsukki," Kuroo murmured, sounding far more in-control of himself than before. It roused Tsukishima's attention, his curiosity, and he mumbled wordlessly in reply. "Do you... feel better?"

Kuroo's movements didn't cease, but they were almost slower, languid. Deep, always deep, and spreading him wide every time-- but there was less haste, less aggression. And the overwhelming desperation had dissipated a bit, giving Tsukishima some space in his own brain to think.

"Nnh..." Blinking dazedly, he didn't try to lift his head, licking his dry lips and swallowing. "... A l-little." The stutter was caused by Kuroo suddenly hitching his hips up against Tsukishima's, making him gasp quietly.

"Ah... g-good." Kuroo groaned deep in his throat and rutted forward again, reveling (guiltily) in the noise it drove out of Tsukishima. 

"Mn." Tsukishima didn't feel like talking. His heat suppressant must be kicking in or something. Drowsily he closed his eyes, panting quietly against Kuroo's skin. 

"I'm not that bad at this, am I?" Kuroo wondered aloud, and Tsukishima could hear the grin in his voice, the playful tone.

"Shut up."

"You're falling asleep in the middle of sex with me?" The tone was the same, but this time there was almost a hesitation, a catch-- like he was trying to joke, but he wasn't sure how Tsukishima would react. Would he get mad at Kuroo for calling it sex so casually? Should he?

"Not falling asleep," he grumbled instead, and he could feel the stress dissipate by the way Kuroo relaxed against him.

"Are you close?" he murmured, and after a minute Tsukishima shook his head. His cock was aching, drooling precum between his legs, but the tightness there wasn't caused by an impending orgasm. Just heat. 

And the desperation crashed over him again so suddenly that it made him cry out; fingers had locked around his cock, stroking upward slowly, making his hips buck frantically. Without thinking he gasped Kuroo's name, rocking into that tight grip. 

The instant Kuroo felt Tsukishima's pulse spike again, his own instincts drove him forward once more, pounding into the omega's hole and shuddering when it made the other yelp. It felt like their hearts were connected-- pulse beating erratically, calming and palpitating together, driving them both mad.

Twisting his wrist, Kuroo groaned loudly when he heard Tsukishima stifle a scream against his neck, legs shaking. Without thinking-- following the movements of his body without directing it-- Kuroo's hand dropped to the leg Tsukishima had wrapped around his waist, yanking it off and pushing it up, draping it over his shoulder like the other. As soon as he had the position he braced a foot underneath himself and pushed upwards, bending the taller boy back until his knees touched his shoulders. Tsukishima's back curved at the sudden change, mouth falling open in a silent gasp as Kuroo angled his hips and _thrust_.

This position left Tsukishima open, all the more vulnerable, and Kuroo buried his face in against the other's throat, breathing in that scent, dragging his teeth over the other's windpipe and moaning when he felt Tsukishima's pulse stutter. Every time he slammed his hips down he felt Tsukishima's body jolt, arch, saw his dick spurt precum and spill it down his stomach, his chest. Christ he was a fucking mess, Kuroo could have cum just from seeing the younger boy like this. Who would have thought he'd end up in the backup supply closet fucking a first-year omega from an out-of-town team? 

But it would be Tsukki, wouldn't it? Of course it would be Tsukki. It figured that Tsukki would be an omega-- the only one that would keep it such a rigid secret, that would put such stress on himself just to make sure no one else found out. 

"Please, please..." He was gasping, each repetition of the word jolted out by every rough thrust, and Kuroo bit back a snarl, fingers digging into Tsukishima's thighs as he intensified the pace. It had Tsukishima howling, spine curving sharply, toes curling, as the orgasm was driven out of him. Scrabbling, he seized his own cock, gasping and jerking until the last drop. The sudden constriction around his dick had Kuroo slamming in deep and holding it, holding there, grinding up against Tsukishima's ass as he hit his own climax. 

He could feel Tsukishima shaking underneath him, and he was careful to draw away. The other's legs slid to the ground on either side of him as soon as Kuroo released his grip on them, and he could see Tsukishima's chest heaving for breath, eyes squeezed shut and face tipped towards the ceiling. Licking his lips, Kuroo ran his hands gently down Tsukishima's thighs, felt the muscles twitching slightly from exertion under his touch.

"Fuck off," Tsukishima hissed, trying to yank his legs away. Kuroo shoved his hands down, pinning the other's legs there and watching as Tsukishima's eyes flew open; wide, lacking any the bitterness of the blond's tone of voice. They narrowed into slits a moment later though as he glared down at Kuroo. " _What_?" 

Rather than answer, Kuroo stared back at him, trying to catch his own breath. Had he made a mistake? Should he have left when he'd still had any ounce of control?

"That look of doubt doesn't suit you," Tsukishima muttered irritably, gaze flicking away. But something about his expression had softened just a bit, and Kuroo relaxed by increments. 

"One orgasm won't cut it for a heat," Kuroo said finally, by way of warning.

Tsukishima waved it off, tired but annoyed. "My heat suppressants will kick in before the heat swings back up."

"Oh? You have experience with that then, do you?"

"It happens." Tsukishima's jaw clenched, and Kuroo chose not to push it. 

Kuroo didn't want to bring it up, but he knew he had to. "Even after having sex with an alpha..?"

To that, Tsukishima didn't reply right away. Finally, though, his gaze still fixed on the ceiling, he said, "I don't know." There was a long silence between them, a loaded silence that they both understood. It was up to Tsukishima to answer the unspoken question; Kuroo didn't even need to ask. "No, I had never fucked an alpha," he finally managed to grind out, sounding angry. "I've never fucked anyone. I was a virgin. Obviously. If I don't fucking want anyone to know I'm an omega, why would I--"

"Tsukki, I get it," Kuroo soothed, running his hands lightly over the other blocker's legs. It seemed to calm him, until Tsukishima realized it was calming him, and he tensed up from spite alone. "Relax," Kuroo insisted, and there was something in his tone that had Tsukishima obeying without a second's thought. That alone almost had him stiffening again, from alarm and anger and frustration, but this time he chose that spite wasn't worth it. 

"Whatever," he muttered, weary. Everyone must be awake by now. They'd start wondering where the Karasuno blocker and Nekoma captain were. "We have to--"

" _You_ have to stay right here for a bit," Kuroo interrupted, and Tsukishima lowered his eyes to stare down at Kuroo. There was an intensity there that told Kuroo he better have a damn good reason for that statement, and he didn't hesitate to explain; "You're topless, and your shorts are soaked through, and-- not just to flatter myself-- you look like a hot fucking mess." Tsukishima looked like he was about to snarl some unforgiving comment, so Kuroo hurried on; "So let me at least go get you some clothes. And you can wait here to make sure your suppressants are working like you thought." Tsukishima couldn't be sure, since he'd never tried mixing alpha sex and heat suppressants before. Who knew how that would affect him?

"... Fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Hey! I'm looking for some people to proof-read the chapters before I post them. I need help with spelling and grammar checks, making sure my tense remains consistent, and feedback on characterization! If you're interested, please feel free to add me on Skype!~~ Thanks for everyone who added me!! I'll be able to find an editor by the next chapter, so thank you ;w;
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter YwY Don't worry, the story is far from over B3c
> 
> Comments are my lifeblood ;w; I'd love to hear from you! Thank you so much for everything! UwU //heart emoji


	7. Damage Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you all so much for your patience!! I took on a bit more of a work load than I could handle this semester, but... it's over! And as thanks to all of you for being so so so patient with me, I sat down today-- my first day all to myself!-- and wrote this up for you. 
> 
> I got a few messages on tumblr asking me about this, and it was really encouraging to see people still interested in this fic. It means a lot to me that you've all stuck around ;w; Thank you! ♥ 
> 
> Without further ado, here's chapter 7!

"Yo! Kuroo!" The Nekoma captain dropped his bag, whipping around and yanking his jacket off of the chair to cover himself. "Whoa!" Spinning away, Yamamoto covered his eyes, shaking his head. "What the hell, captain?"

"You're one to talk, barging in without knocking!"

"How'm I supposed to know you're gonna be nude," the spiker muttered, sounding dejected as always when Kuroo shut down his energetic demeanor. 

"What, then?" Tossing the jacket, Kuroo hunted through his suitcase for a fresh pair of shorts. He had to hurry here, and go to Karasuno's wing to find Tsukki's bag and find him some clothes. Maybe he could get Tsukki's little sidekick to help him.

"Uh, it's..." Hearing Yamamoto hesitate warranted Kuroo to straighten and look towards him.

"What?" he demanded, letting his impatience leak into his tone.

"Yaku said he wanted to talk to you," the spiker finally said. "He might need the day off."

"What?" Kuroo groaned. It tapered off into silence when he considered just how sensitive Yaku was to alpha pheromones, though. With Tsukki in heat, Kuroo knew his own pheromones were probably off the charts, trying to overload Tsukki's omega pheromones and drown them out so other alphas wouldn't notice. It was an imperfect territorial function; the other alphas would still be scenting Tsukki. And if their bodies were reacting...

"... Tell him it's fine," he finally said, grabbing his sweats and yanking them on without a second thought.

"Yeah? Alright. Uh, why're you pantsless, captain?"

"Pantsless?" Yamamoto jumped at the voice right by his ear, dropping his hands and blinking at Kuroo. "I don't know what you're talking about." Walking away, the Nekoma captain was fully clothed, and Yamamoto shook his head without bothering to ask.

* * *

Yaku was suffering a sympathetic heat. Something like that. Kuroo had read about them; they were short-lived and not even caused by another omega's heat, rather by the pheromones released by alphas in the presence of an omega in heat. A domino effect.

Kuroo had the feeling that he was forgetting something important, but no matter how hard he thought on it, he couldn't remember anything else on the subject.

Shaking his head, he made his way towards the wing where Karasuno was staying. "K-Kuroo-san?" Aha.

"Sidekick-kun." Yamaguchi blinked at the sudden nickname, though not as much as he flinched when Kuroo threw an arm over his shoulder. "Just the guy I wanted to see." Kuroo turned the younger boy around and started down the hall, not giving the other much in the way of escape. "I've got a real important question for you, alright? Life-and-death, we're talking. But you've gotta keep it a secret. Okay?"

"O-okay? Life and death?" Yamaguchi looked deeply uncomfortable with the idea of keeping a life-and-death secret. "What kind of question?"

Reaching the Karasuno room, Kuroo pushed the door open and pointed at the futons, ignoring the half-naked Tanaka who squawked indignantly at being exposed in his underwear. "Which one of those is yours?"

"Huh?" Yamaguchi looked away hastily, face flushing, when Tanaka glowered at them. Kuroo continued to ignore him.

"C'mon, man. Life-and-death."

"N-not-- uh. I'm in the other room?"

"Aha." Shutting the door, Kuroo dragged Yamaguchi the last few feet, pushing open the next door. This room, blessedly, was empty. "Which one?"

"That one," Yamaguchi muttered, pointing at the second-closest one to the door.

"Not a cuddler, are ya?" Kuroo wondered, stepping into the room and turning on his heel, facing Yamaguchi with a bright smile. "Well! Crisis averted! You've chosen life. Thanks, Sidekick-kun." With that he slid the door shut in Yamaguchi's confused, frazzled face.

Turning back towards the room, Kuroo took a deep breath and stepped forward. Tsukishima would be in the futon closest to the door, then. It figured that he wouldn't want to be surrounded-- or rather, that he'd like to have an easy escape route. The futon was hastily tossed together, what Kuroo suspected to be Yamaguchi's attempt at covering his friend's absence. Crouching, he reached out and flicked the blanket back a bit. A wet spot halfway down the futon made him hold his breath suddenly, putting the blanket back in place. The last thing he wanted was to catch a whiff of that...

Shaking his head to clear it, Kuroo grabbed the bag at the foot of the futon and unzipped it, ready to sort through the contents. The clothes were meticulously packed, carefully organized, and very tidily folded. Rolling his eyes, Kuroo tried to be neat as he nudged them aside in search of shorts. "Aha," he hummed, pulling out a pair. Plucking up the first t-shirt on top of the pile, he stood and let them both hang under his arm. 

"Kuroo-san." Jolting, Kuroo turned, eyeing the setter standing in the doorway. "May I ask why you're going through our first-year's luggage?"

Barring the truth, which was bad enough, there was no good excuse here. Kuroo stared for a few moments, clearly trying to come up with some sort of explanation, and Sugawara sighed. "Please tell me the truth."

"Can't," he said with far too much cheer. "Sorry. Confidential information. Above my pay grade. I'm just the gopher."

"The gopher," Sugawara repeated, not believing it for a second, and knowing full well that Kuroo also happened to know that he wasn't buying it.

"Y... yep." His grin was splintering.

"Kuroo-san."

"Yes~?"

"There's only one door in this room," Sugawara pointed out the lack of escape routes, and Kuroo swallowed.

"Mhm," he agreed, glancing at the window.

"Kuroo-san," Sugawara said, voice suddenly scolding, like trying to dispel a bad idea from a child's head.

"Tsukki had an accident," Kuroo said, shrugging. "Embarrassing, really. Someone left the toilet seat down and he-- well."

A look of surprise flashed over Sugawara's face as Kuroo walked up to him, bouncing from one foot to the next. "So, can I get him this change of clothes, or shall we let him prune a little longer?"

"Sorry," he said hastily, getting out of the way so the Nekoma captain could leave the room. 

Halfway down the hall, Kuroo stopped as Sugawara said, "Please take care of him."

Hesitating, Kuroo eventually glanced back towards the third-year. "You've got it, team mom." Somehow, he had the feeling that this person would kick his ass if anything bad happened to Tsukki under his watch. It was the same feeling that Yaku gave off.

Hurrying away, Kuroo lifted a hand to pull his bangs away from his face. All things considered, this little adventure hadn't gone half as wrong as it could have. 

He had the feeling that Sugawara knew, though.

He wondered if he should tell Tsukki.

* * *

"Bokuto--" 

"S'bad," Bokuto panted, fingers digging into the mattress at Akaashi's back. "S'so bad, Akaashi." A whine slithered up his throat and he pushed his face against the setter's neck, trying to drown out the other invasive scent. 

"I have to tell someone," Akaashi said, firmly, his hands squeezing against Bokuto's arms. It was impossible to move with the other kneeling over him, pinning him to the bed like this.

"Don't go. Need you." Bokuto shook his head, fingernails hissing against the sheets as every hot breath burned up Akaashi's neck. 

"I have to tell the other alphas," Akaashi hissed, doing his best to ignore the knee that Bokuto had pushed up between his legs. 

"They know." Bokuto shook his head, breathless as he sank lower, laying against Akaashi and moaning helplessly. "Akaashi, please."

"This will turn full-blown crisis if the other alphas are this badly affected!" Akaashi argued, squirming under the ace's considerable weight. 

"Kuroo's good," Bokuto muttered, mouthing at Akaashi's neck.

"Nekoma--"

"They can take care of it," Bokuto insisted, this time without room for argument, a growl edging into his voice. " _I_ need _you_." Akaashi didn't speak again, and when he felt Bokuto's lips against his throat, he closed his eyes, feeling his heart speed up in his chest. He couldn't take care of everyone. That was his fault, always trying to take responsibility for everything. Bokuto knew that-- although, Akaashi knew that it wasn't out of concern for him that Bokuto was doing this. Maybe part of him. 

"What would you've done without me up until this point?" Akaashi mumbled, loosening his fingers from where they'd embedded themselves in Bokuto's arms, raising them to push through the older boy's unruly hair. 

"Died," Bokuto whined, nuzzling instead of kissing now, though a sudden bite made Akaashi inhale sharply. 

"Settle down. Take your clothes off." Bokuto didn't hesitate to comply, tossing his shirt and shoving his pants down without pause. Akaashi barely had his shirt pulled halfway up his torso before Bokuto was yanking his shorts down around his ankles, pushing his legs up and getting between them. "Stop," Akaashi said, squirming his legs away from Bokuto's grip when the other relented it, staring with confusion and apprehension. An outright 'no' wasn't ambiguous between them; it meant what it meant. They'd established that long ago, with Akaashi's tendency to argue without really wanting to stop. "No lube. Lie down." Bokuto followed orders well when he knew that Akaashi would take care of him.

Pushing his back against Bokuto's chest, he felt the captain's arms wrap suddenly, tightly, around his middle, taking his breath away. His arms were strong, and when he squeezed, it made Akaashi's throat work, his face flushing a dark red. "Between my legs," he directed under his breath, his voice unsteady now.

"Um-hm," Bokuto mumbled, remembering the last time they'd done this and quickly getting into the proper position. Nudging his flushed cock between Akaashi's thighs, he choked on a groan when the other squeezed them together, crossing his ankles and pressing his knees together. "Akaashi--" 

Akaashi closed his eyes, fingers trembling when he felt Bokuto nuzzling at the back of his neck, panting and moaning as he rocked his hips insistently forward, his dick moving easily through the sweat on Akaashi's thighs and the spit Bokuto had rubbed against himself before. It felt good for him, too, especially when the head of Bokuto's cock bumped up behind his balls, making him swallow a choked sound of his own. Unable to keep himself from reaching down and gripping himself, Akaashi squeezed his eyes shut and stroked along his own length, biting his lips hard to stifle any lewd noises.

Those attempts were thwarted when Bokuto bit his nape, making him suck in a wavering whimper of delight. Wrapping one arm tightly around Akaashi's waist, squeezing there like he knew Akaashi loved, he spared the other hand and met Akaashi's hand down against his dick, taking it in his own grasp. "Akaashi," Bokuto whispered against his ear, feeling the setters breathless gasps for air in every rise and fall of his chest. "You take such good care of me."

"Y-you--" Akaashi shook his head in his failed attempt to respond. Bokuto was just lucky that he took such good care of Akaashi when Akaashi went out of his way for him like this.

Flattening his hand on Akaashi's abdomen, he pinned the younger boy's pelvis flush against his own, rutting his hips forward and reveling in the way Akaashi moaned into his palm. It took no time at all before he was gasping against Akaashi's neck, hips thrusting forward as his orgasm hit him full-force. Akaashi squeezed his thighs together extra tight, making Bokuto yelp softly into his hair. Toes curling, he squeezed his hand around Akaashi's cock, jerking him off with renewed vigor. Jolting, legs going limp, Akaashi squirmed and gasped, hips bucking into Bokuto's grip until he came with a groan. 

Burying his face in the black tangles of Akaashi's hair, Bokuto let his hand go limp against the other's stomach, swallowing thickly and trying to catch his breath. Akaashi did much of the same, bangs plastered to his forehead with sweat as he waited for his heart to stop pounding in his chest.

"Are you spent yet?" Akaashi muttered, pretending the tremor in his voice wasn't there.

"Never," Bokuto mumbled, nuzzling into Akaashi's nape and pressing kisses against the skin there, reveling in the way it made Akaashi shiver. "But s'not so bad."

"Don't contract those words."

Bokuto chuckled, looping his arms back around Akaashi's waist and gently squeezing him into a hug. 

"If an omega's gone into heat..." 

"S'weird," Bokuto murmured, not moving. "I'm not feeling it anymore."

"What?" Lifting his head, Akaashi tried to sit up. Bokuto didn't relent his grip, strong arms keeping the setter pinned against his front. "Bokuto-san--"

"Don't go back to honorifics," Bokuto whined. 

"Bokuto-san," Akaashi repeated pointedly and firmly. 

Sighing, the ace loosened his arms slowly, though he didn't miss the blush on Akaashi's ears. 

"You aren't feeling the affects of a heat anymore?" Akaashi asked as he sat up, rubbing the back of his neck as if to rub away the feeling of Bokuto's lips, his breath, from the skin.

"Mm," Bokuto mumbled in agreement as he sat up.

"Were you even under the influence of a heat in the first place?" Akaashi muttered, standing as he reached for a cloth to wipe his and Bokuto's cum from his stomach and legs.

"I was!" Bokuto's tone was indignant, and he settled into pouting when Akaashi looked over at him. Sighing, the setter tossed the cloth into the trash can.

"Let's go talk to the other alphas." He knew Bokuto wasn't lying. He'd felt the heat himself-- distant, muffled, nothing like how an alpha would feel it. But he'd felt it.

"Kuroo's probably stuffing his face."

"Everyone is eating breakfast," Akaashi pointed out, reaching for Bokuto's pants and tossing them to the ace. "We'll check there first."

* * *

How long did it take to get a change of clothes?

Tsukishima hugged his knees to his chest, glowering across the equipment room at the soaked shorts that he'd stashed behind a mop and bucket. The scent was revolting to him, but if someone walked in then he didn't want anyone seeing them. Which was also the reason why he was tucked away in the corner of the equipment closet behind a stack of mats; he didn't want anyone seeing _him_.

Closing his eyes, he rested his cheek against his arm and exhaled slowly. The heat suppressants had been kicking in faster since Kuroo and his damned alpha pheromones left. Maybe it was a good thing that he was taking fucking forever to run a simple errand. Already the arousal had all but disappeared, and he'd long since stopped ... leaking. The thought made him shudder in revulsion, lips drawing back. Christ, what kind of state was his futon going to be in? He was loathe to think about it.

He knew Kuroo was coming before he heard him, before he even smelled him. His body knew, reacted to it, responded, and he tensed all over, gritting his teeth. Forcefully smothering the curious peek of his arousal, he stayed rooted in place as the door opened. "Tsukki?"

"Here," he ground out, really not appreciating the nickname right now.

"Here," Kuroo said, crouching at his side and offering the clothes. At least he seemed to have sobered up. "How're you holding up?" The question was a fork in the road; Tsukishima could answer honestly about his state of being, or--

"The pills are working," he deflected instead, ignoring the wounded look Kuroo gave him. Snatching his clothes, he stood slowly, unmoving for a minute before asking, "Did you bring any tissues?"

"Nnno." Rubbing the back of his neck, Kuroo stepped back, having the decency not to look at Tsukishima's nakedness. Tsukishima had to resist the urge to snort; after what they'd done, it was stupid to think that Kuroo could be bashful about seeing him nude. Then again, it was stupid to appreciate the fact that he wasn't looking. The thought made him uncomfortable. Kuroo interrupted his thoughts: "I can go get some."

"Forget it." Yanking the clothes on, Tsukishima dragged his hands through his hair, staring at the wall. "Is anyone looking for me?"

"No. I, ah, told your setter that you fell into a toilet." Kuroo was grinning when Tsukishima stared at him. "... Seriously."

"I'll kill you," Tsukishima said far too pleasantly.

"I don't think he believed me!" Kuroo defended, raising both hands to ward off the younger boy's wrath. Tsukishima froze, and Kuroo winced slightly. For a long time neither said anything. Kuroo was fairly sure that Sugawara knew, now. He was sure that Tsukishima knew that, too.

Shaking his head, Tsukishima took a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled. "I'm going to breakfast," he said lowly, and Kuroo didn't reply. Leaving the older boy behind, Tsukishima crossed the room and grabbed his shorts, then headed out the door. Kuroo didn't follow, and he took that as being given a head start to get himself together. 

Back in the shared room, he found Yamaguchi fiddling with his phone, looking restless. Too tired to bother trying to escape, Tsukishima grabbed his plastic bag designated for dirty clothes and jammed his shorts in. Yamaguchi stared at him for a minute, and Tsukishima glanced over, blinking at him. "... What?"

"You, uh-- okay, Tsukki?" He could tell that Yamaguchi felt apprehensive asking. Probably because he'd asked a couple times lately, and Tsukishima had always snipped at him for it. 

Guiltily, Tsukishima glanced down at his bag, nudging things back into order. Kuroo had made a mess of it, hadn't he? Jeez. "I'm fine," he said, his tone carefully measured so as not to express any impatience or annoyance. Then, glancing up, he studied Yamaguchi's face, meeting his eyes. "Really."

For a few moments nothing was done, until Yamaguchi relaxed slightly. "Okay." Putting his phone aside, he stood. Had he just been waiting for Tsukishima to come back? "Want to get some breakfast?"

"I'll meet you," he said, looking down at his bag again. Now that everything was patched up with Yamaguchi-- and that was really all it took with this boy, wasn't it?-- Tsukishima wanted to get yet another clean set of clothes and go to the bathroom to clean himself before changing again. 

"Okay, Tsukki. See you." Yamaguchi headed out, and Tsukishima sighed. 

Something flickered in his mind and he glanced at his bag of dirty clothes, pulling it over and reaching for the shorts. Grimacing as he touched a wet spot, he shook his hand and slipped his fingers into the pocket.

Rooting around the empty space, he exhaled sharply with more exasperation than the situation warranted and reached for the other pocket. Just like with having to flip a USB stick three times when there were only two sides, it made him irrationally irritable when he was looking for something in his pants' pockets and it wound up being in the opposite. Something about being consistently screwed over by 50/50 chances just got on his nerves.

He wiggles his fingers in the other pocket and found it empty, too.

Feeling a trickle of unease, he pulled the shorts out of the bag and squeezed both sides.

Nothing.

Dropping the shorts, he patted the pockets of the shorts he was wearing, then shot to his feet, searching the ground frantically. 

His heart lodged in his throat when he found the ground bare.

Where was his pill bottle?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course I'm gonna come back with another cliff hanger. It's me! What did you expect? Fufufufufu.
> 
> As always, comments are the best! Kudos are lovely, lovely, lovely ♥ Thank you!


	8. Leave A Message

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate chapter title is "HEY BITCH REMEMBER ME" because my beta Tilly cracks me up
> 
> Chapter eiiiight~
> 
> I'm away from home for the next... two months... but I managed to write up a blueprint for the next like, 5 chapters, so I'll be able to keep writing from wherever I am c: 
> 
> Ahh I wanna thank you guys again for being so patient with my erratic updating schedule ;w; Bless the lot of you~
> 
> Enjoy!

**Day 4.  
7:43am.**

"Fuck," he whispered, voice cracking. Squeezing the pockets of his shorts, Tsukishima bit back his anxiety, fists trembling. Closing his eyes he took a deep, steadying breath, forcing his heart back into a regular rhythm. This wasn't the time to panic. Had he left it in the storage closet? Dropped it on the way to his room?

Exhaling shakily, he glanced around the floor one more time, then checked the bag again to make sure it hadn't fallen out of the pocket. Carefully, he triple-checked everything again, and still found no trace. Swallowing down his unease, he stood slowly, staring at the ground for a long time. It must be at the storage closet. It had to be-- if he'd dropped it in the halls, who knew who would find it?

Taking a deep breath, Tsukishima turned and headed for the door. Opening it brought him face-to-face-- or rather, face-to-chest-- with Nishinoya. "There you are!" the libero barked, startling Tsukishima back a step until the smaller boy grabbed the front of his shirt. " _You_ of all people can't miss breakfast! It's the most important meal of the day, you know, Tsukishima. And you're way too scrawny to be skipping any meals at all."

"Noya--" he muttered as he was dragged down the hall, a flash of irritation making him swat the other's hand off of his shirt. "I have to--"

"No excuses," Nishinoya cut him off, whirling on him with a scolding glower that made Tsukishima stop, gaze sliding away. It occurred to him that the avoidance could be construed as submissive, and his heat might be peeking through, and he clenched his jaw tightly. "Breakfast. Now."

* * *

Arguing with Nishinoya would have been suspicious. Tsukishima rarely pushed anything, and he definitely didn't get defensive or insistent. So he'd let the second-year march him down the halls and into the cafeteria, apprehension about his pill bottle rising with every second he didn't spend looking for it. 

Sitting where Nishinoya indicated, albeit with belligerent slowness, Tsukishima glared at the table top while the shorter boy shoved a plate in front of him. Against his will, his stomach growled at the scent. Heaving an irate sigh, Tsukishima dug into the food, annoyed when he managed to eat the second plate Nishinoya shoved at him. Refusing a third-- on principle, not because he couldn't eat anymore (because he was sure he would have managed it with ease and that annoyed him to no end)-- he stood and headed for the door to go look for his pills.

"We're against Fukurodani this morning," Daichi announced from the table, and Hinata shouted enthusiastically. "Get changed!"

Stopping, Tsukishima stared out the door as Karasuno rose and streamed out around him. Damn it, he didn't have time for this.

"Tsukishima?" The blond's shoulders tensed when a light touch found his arm and he looked down to find Sugawara at his side. "We need to talk." There was still that gentle look in his eyes, but it was edged with firmness now. Something stern. Tsukishima wondered what had finally pushed the maternal boy to impatience.

Tsukishima didn't reply, and Sugawara sighed. "At lunch, Tsukishima. And don't run off again."

* * *

He didn't run off.

He walked, very calmly, to the other side of the grounds and pushed the door of the storage closet open, and closed it behind him. His stomach protested the lack of food in front of him, but he ignored it in favor of hunting down the light switch. Flicking it on and glancing around, he made a face at the dust that thickly layered every surface in the room. Gross. He'd been _naked_ in here. 

Banishing the thought immediately, he strode forward and scanned the floor. It took him ten minutes to scour every inch of the ground, from where he'd been to where he hadn't even gone close to, and yet no pill bottle appeared. Another ten minutes to double-check, and then five more before he gave up.

Retreating out of the room and shutting the door, sighing heavily, Tsukishima started back down the hall, eyes on the floor as he sought out the bottle. Halfway back to Karasuno's room he stopped, tugging on his fingers restlessly. This part of the hall was frequented by two of the other teams, and if he'd dropped them here then someone would have probably noticed them.

So he had a choice of believing one of several possibilities:  
1\. Someone had found a bottle of aspirin and took it at face-value, possibly taking it to the lost and found.  
2\. Someone had found a bottle of aspirin, looked inside, and found the heat suppressants.  
3\. The bottle had disappeared into thin air by the whims of some cruel deity.

Tsukishima was a realist, so the last option was quickly discredited (though he humored it for a while, since this whole trip seemed to be the product of some cruel deity laughing down at him). Tsukishima was _not_ an optimist, and so the first option faded gradually. Yet at the same time, he was logical, and so the odds of someone checking the contents of an aspirin bottle just to double-check that they were indeed aspirin was odd.

None of the options appealed to him, and so he gave up on speculation. 

Sighing and rubbing the back of his neck, Tsukishima looked back down the hall from the way he'd come. 

"Tsukishima! There you are." Tensing, he glanced up quickly and saw Daichi approaching. Shit. Had Suga told the captain? He doubted that the other omega would out him like that, but maybe sicing Daichi on him to get him to actually have the conversation wouldn't be above the setter...

"Our match against Nekoma got pushed back by half an hour-- two of their members aren't feeling well so we're giving them some time to get their stuff together." Then, more sternly, he said, "I saw you skipped lunch. Go eat now before the match starts. If you're not feeling well enough to eat, then you shouldn't be participating in the matches at all."

"I'm fine," Tsukishima muttered, lowering his arm from his neck slowly. The last thing he needed was everyone thinking he was really sick and doing something like try to take his temperature. "Sorry, captain."

Daichi relented, almost softened. "It's fine. Just get some food into you."

Nodding, Tsukishima trudged past him, tense at the idea of finding Sugawara waiting for him in the cafeteria.

He didn't. According to Tanaka, the setter had just left not five minutes ago in search of the blond. Allowing himself to feel a moment of relief, Tsukishima settled down and filled a plate with what food was left from the lunch rush. Tanaka hovered over his shoulder-- "In Nishinoya's stead," he explained-- and only left him alone when he was satisfied with the amount on Tsukishima's plate. With a self-important nod, the second-year moved away to go talk to Ennoshita, and Tsukishima started eating.

* * *

Sugawara was glaring at him over dinner. Tsukishima tried not to fidget under the intensity of it, but it was difficult. _If looks could kill,_ he thought, keeping his head down and pretending not to notice. Even so, he was pretty sure that everyone at the table had noticed; the aura Sugawara was emitting would have been impossible for even someone as dense as Hinata to miss. Even so, Nishinoya and Tanaka continued to pretend the tension wasn't there, and for once Tsukishima was grateful for their stupid persistence.

Keeping track of Sugawara's movements out of the corner of his eye, Tsukishima waited until the setter put something new on his plate before standing and leaving the table. "Tsukishima!" Immediately Sugawara stood, looking agitated as the blond slipped into the hall. There was no subtle way to escape this time, and he didn't even try. Reaching out, he grabbed the handle to the boy's bathroom and pulled it open as he passed it, ducking into the adjacent hall as the cafeteria door opened. Hearing Sugawara catch the door and go into the bathroom, Tsukishima quickly cut across the hall and into the closet, waiting until he heard the bathroom door open again and Sugawara's footsteps head down the only hallway at a rush.

For a moment he waited, then stepped out, looking down the way Sugawara had disappeared. Sighing (not admitting he was relieved) Tsukishima glanced towards the door that lead outside, and jolted when the cafeteria door opened and Daichi stepped out to look right at him.

"Why are you avoiding Suga?"

Dropping his gaze like a scolded school child, Tsukishima shrugged. It was obvious that Daichi wouldn't accept the non-answer, but there was little the captain could do besides tattle on him to the setter. 

Sighing, Daichi rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the first-year. "Whatever it is, he's just trying to help." The captain's faith in his partner wasn't quite misplaced, but Tsukishima felt that he could use some more perspective. "You should talk to him." 

_You don't know what you're talking about._ Saying something that rude to an upperclassman would definitely get him scolded, so Tsukishima only shrugged again. 

Shaking his head helplessly, Daichi finally turned away. "I won't get involved. But you're really frustrating him." 

When Daichi re-entered the cafeteria, Tsukishima passed the doors and went outside. Following the wall, he circled the building halfway before pushing open a set of doors that brought him into a long hallway. The rooms on either side were messy, and he could presume that at least one belonged to the rowdy Nekoma team. Hurrying past, not wanting to be caught in another school's wing, Tsukishima found a juncture and managed to orient himself, then went straight and headed towards the storage closet to check it again. 

He didn't run into Sugawara after that.

* * *

**11:54pm.**

He'd been up and down the hall seven times, had checked the storage closet six, and even snuck back into Karasuno's shared room twice to double-check his bag. Yamaguchi had woken and whispered to him, asking what he was doing, and Tsukishima had hesitated before telling him not to worry about it. Yamaguchi would always worry after hearing those words, but as tired as he had been after a full day of practice, Tsukishima was sure he'd wait until morning to fret properly. And he'd been right, listening to Yamaguchi's impatient sigh before he rolled over and returned to sleep.

Back in the storage room, he could feel the heat creeping up on him. This was bad. This was worse than the morning. It couldn't _get_ worse than this. Already feeling breathless from panic, Tsukishima dragged his fingers through his hair and tugged at the roots. He should have just spoken to Sugawara. Maybe the other omega had suppressants he could loan him. He'd gone well past secretive and into paranoid. If he had to tell anyone, it should be Sugawara, and he could at least trust the other not to tell anyone, even if he was worried about Tsukishima. Loyal to a fault, that was Sugawara. But instead he'd prioritized pride and independence and now look at where he was.

He'd fucked up. 

Closing his eyes and trying to regulate his breathing, Tsukishima slid down the wall and sat on the ground. The door, directly to his left, had been left ajar and he stared out at the hallway through the sliver of space. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He'd backed himself into a corner. 

A cramp made him double over and he gasped, feeling fluid suddenly dampen his underwear. Shit. Closing his eyes tightly, he clutched at his gut and gritted his teeth. Was it too late to contact Sugawara? No, he could text him-- Daichi had recommended everyone swap cell numbers in case of emergencies (like that time Hinata got lost, though he'd forgotten his cell phone so the example had segued into a rant about not forgetting your cell phone in case of emergencies too). 

Shuddering at the coil of arousal tightening inside of him, Tsukishima bit his lip and stifled whatever humiliating noise was trying to escape. If Sugawara didn't have heat suppressants to share, then he'd have to tell someone. A teacher, a coach, anyone in a position of authority, because an omega in heat among alphas was a danger to more than just Tsukishima, and Sugawara would know that. 

Breathless, Tsukishima stared at the wall across from him. He had no options left. He'd done this to himself.

Fingers trembling, he fished into his pocket for his phone. Scrolling through his contacts, he swallowed thickly and felt his toes curl, arousal stirring in his groin. Finally, he found the name and selected it:

>   
>  **To:** Kuroo  
>  hey, i need help again.

He tried to keep the tone of it casual. If someone else picked up the phone, this wouldn't sound too suspicious. Like he needed a hand or something. He figured Kuroo would understand though.

Another cramp of arousal shot through him and he dropped his phone, gripping at his abdomen and stifling a whimper against his knee. Christ, he hated this. How many other omegas had life seen hiding away in a closet to conceal their heat? What kind of circumstance was this for Tsukishima to find himself in, stashing himself in a storage closet during the training weekend of his volleyball team, a city away from home, suffering like this? He imagined if everything had gone according to plan; he'd be sleeping soundly, he'd still be a virgin, Kuroo wouldn't know he was an omega, and next week he'd start taking his suppressants like normal-- maybe the exertion would've made him take them more often but that would be fine, and he could manage it until he got home and took care of it.

Five minutes had passed and his phone showed that Kuroo hadn't even opened his text.

>   
>  **To:** Kuroo  
>  oi, wake up.

Tucking the phone against his stomach as he hugged his arms around himself again, Tsukishima hung his head forward and tracked the gradual progression of his heat from a tickle to a burn. Before long it would be an outright blaze of need and he clenched his hands against his sides as though trying to contain it, to keep it inside, to smother it.

Ten minutes more and it was like a searing ache.

>   
>  **To:** Kuroo  
>  kuroo-san

He couldn't manage anything else, his fingers were trembling so badly. Shoving his phone aside he pressed his palm against his crotch and choked on a sob, grinding against it with barely-tamed desperation. Two minutes later he couldn't handle it, blinking tears of frustration away as he fumbled with his phone.

When he had it in his hand, he didn't know what to do with it. What now? His back-up plan was passed out in a room full of volleyball players across the building. 

On auto-pilot, breathing unsteadily through his nose, Tsukishima scrolled back up in his contacts.

>   
>  **To:** Akaashi  
>  are you awake?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Suga. Mothering isn't easy, is it?
> 
> And poor Tsukki too I GUESS. Wonder what he's doing, texting Akaashi.
> 
> Ahh, also, I'm having some difficulty making the blockquote look good, so if anyone has any suggestions for that, I'd appreciate it ;o;
> 
> Comments soothe the soul! And they feed the beast, and the beast needs feeding if it's to keep up its strength for writing. So feed the beast! (Ignore the signs that say no feeding the animals, this isn't a zoo.) Thank you! //heart emoji


	9. Time bomb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Celebrating the anniversary of this fic's first chapter, AND the first episode of season 2!!!
> 
> HERE'S CHAPTER 9~

**Day 5.  
12:16am.**

Squinting his eyes blearily, Akaashi pushed himself up from the cot and pushed his hair out of his face. Feeling Bokuto breathing steadily beside him, he took care not to rouse the other, reaching for the table and fumbling to unplug his phone. Pulling it over to himself and turning over to sit back against the wall, he opened the screen, squeezing his eyes shut at the brightness. Waiting for his eyes to adjust, narrowing them to try and read the name of whatever fool had texted him at this outrageous time, he tapped in his password and waited for the message center to open.

>   
>  **From:** Tsukishima Kei  
>  are you awake?

Feeling a blanket of weary confusion settle over himself, Akaashi sighed as he typed out his response.

>   
>  **To:** Tsukishima Kei  
>  I am now. Are you okay?

It took longer than usual for Tsukishima to respond, and he had begun to wonder if the boy had gone to sleep before a text appeared. To his surprise, Tsukishima didn't apologize for waking the upperclassman. Akaashi didn't exactly expect it, but it seemed in-character for Tsukishima. Strange.

>   
>  **From:** Tsukishima Kei  
>  can you find kuroo-san and tell him to check his phone?

A prickle of annoyance made Akaashi set his jaw.

>   
>  **To:** Tsukishima Kei  
>  This can't wait until morning?

He fully expected Tsukishima to balk at Akaashi's irritation. It wasn't easy for anyone besides Bokuto to get under the setter's skin like that. But, again, Akaashi was surprised.

>   
>  **From:** Tsukishima Kei  
>  no.

No explanation, no apology. Nothing. Annoyance melted gradually into concern again. If he read the texts in a bratty tone then he would be pretty peeved with Tsukishima. But somehow he couldn't envision the first-year talking to _him_ like this-- Kuroo and Bokuto maybe, but between the two of them, the other had maintained a respectful demeanor.

Quiet for several moments, Akaashi finally rolled out of bed and stood, pulling a hoodie on over his pajama shirt.

>   
>  **From:** Tsukishima Kei  
>  akaashi-san?

>   
>  **To:** Tsukishima Kei  
>  I'm going.

>   
>  **To:** Tsukishima Kei  
>  Are you sure you're okay?

>   
>  **From:** Tsukishima Kei  
>  thank you

Akaashi headed down the hall, keeping his phone in his hand in wait for Tsukishima's second text. One didn't come.  


* * *

Huffing through his nose, then groaning, Bokuto reached out for his bedmate, only to find empty space. "Akaashi?" he mumbled, lifting his head and blinking drowsily into the darkness. Feeling his bed-head sticking up in every which direction, he reached a hand up to scratch at his scalp, eyes drifting shut. Then, without much thought, he climbed out of bed, swaying in the empty room for a moment.

Yawning widely, he walked to the door as though through a fog, half-asleep as he made his way across the compound. Where had Akaashi gone? The bathroom? Fixing himself in his pants, Bokuto glanced down, having the decency to be embarrassed by the hard-on he'd woken up with. Maybe Akaashi would help him with it when he got back. Though the other would likely just tell Bokuto to go back to sleep...

Glancing up, Bokuto stopped in the hall, disoriented. Where was he? Not the bathroom. Not even the Fukurodani wing, it looked like. But he reached out for the door to the backup storage closet, brows furrowed as he clenched his fist tightly on the handle and pulled it open.

A bit breathless, he stood in the doorway, practically flooded by the pheromones inside. Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, he felt himself rouse, mind sharpening as he blinked into the open space.

To his right, someone sucked in a sharp breath, and he looked over quickly.

Then, confusion set in again. "Tsukki?"  


* * *

"Sorry," Akaashi mumbled, stepping out of the room and ducking his head. The wrong room, again. Where was Kuroo staying? Damn it.

A shadowed figure emerged down the hall; slight, slouched, one hand raised to wipe at its eyes. "Kenma-san," he called softly, and the other boy's head lifted. 

"Mm?" he mumbled, clearly half asleep. 

"Are you staying with Kuroo-san this week?" he murmured as he approached the other setter, reaching out to settle a hand on Kenma's shoulder. It looked like the smaller boy was about to tip sway right off his feet.

"Yes," he responded lightly, yawning. 

"What room are you in?"

Murmuring wordlessly, Kenma led Akaashi down the hall, leaning on the taller setter just a bit. When they reached the room, Akaashi helped him to his cot, watched him fall asleep before he even pulled the blankets up over himself. Sighing, Akaashi draped the sheets over the boy, then turned towards Kuroo's cot.

"Kuroo-san," he hissed softly, nudging the taller boy's shoulder. When there was no response, Akaashi shoved harder, giving a shake. "Kuroo-san." He stirred, just faintly, and after another stretch of silence, Akaashi sighed heavily. Reaching out, he pinched the boy's cheek, then tugged on his ear.

"Hey," Kuroo groaned groggily, lifting a sluggish hand to swat at Akaashi's hand. He pulled it away before Kuroo could reach. "What, Kenma? The bathroom is right down the hall..."

"Kuroo-san," Akaashi repeated, firmly, and Kuroo finally rolled over, propping himself up on an elbow and wiping his eyes.

"Akaashi?" Sounding surprised, Kuroo covered his hand to conceal a yawn. "What's up?"

"Tsukishima-san texted me to tell you to check your phone." He hesitated, then murmured, "I have a feeling something's wrong, but he wouldn't tell me."

A look of surprise crossed Kuroo's features, before he threw his blanket off with more force than was necessary. Sliding off the bed and crossing the room, suddenly wide awake, he grabbed his phone and saw the waiting messages on his front page. 'hey, i need help again.' He knew exactly what that meant. "Shit."

He turned, ready to leave, and found Akaashi directly in front of him. Just from his body language, Kuroo could see that he was planting himself there. "What's going on?" Akaashi demanded, and Kuroo bit his lip. He couldn't get away from this setter like he had with Karasuno's team mother. 

"I'll tell you on the way," Kuroo said, taking Akaashi's wrist and leading him through the door.

* * *

"Kuroo-san is coming," Tsukishima said quickly, harshly. Fuck. _Fuck_ , this whole week was out of control. Now two people-- probably three-- knew that he was an omega. Hell, he might as well count Akaashi in on this; no way the setter was going to just deliver his message to Kuroo without demanding to know what was going on. 

The walls around his most well-kept secret were crumbling down around him. All because of this damn training camp. And the unpredictability of the chaotic order of nature.

"Kuroo knows?" Bokuto asked, still sounding bewildered. He looked half asleep and Tsukishima edged away, suddenly very aware of the other's alpha stature. "Hn." The ace winced slightly and took a step back, lifting a hand to cover his face. "Uh. Uh..." Clearly made stupid by the overwhelming pheromones, Bokuto tried to force the gears in his skull to work. "I'll..."

"I'm fine," Tsukishima insisted, keeping his legs crossed and clenched together. He glanced furtively at his phone, seeing that no messages from either Akaashi or Kuroo had come in. Damn it. 

"It's fine," Bokuto said, contrarily shaking his head. "No worries, Tsukki. Uh. I'll just--"

"Leave," Tsukishima suggested, faux-kind with a growl in his tone.

Bokuto shook his head hard, brows furrowing as he tried to concentrate. "No. No, can't leave you alone like this, you crazy? Just stick around, make sure no one comes down here and finds you. Your secret's safe with me, Tsukki." Somehow, the last sentence seemed less exuberant than the usual Bokuto tone of voice. 

Tsukishima hesitated, fidgeting like there were fire ants crawling all over him. That would be fine, he supposed. The less people discovering his identity, the better. 

He just had to trust Bokuto's self-control. But somehow, if the other was putting himself out like this-- making himself stay to protect Tsukishima-- then he had the feeling that Bokuto trusted himself to keep his hands to himself. Tsukishima didn't know him all that well, but he knew him well enough to understand that the other would sooner run off than stay in a situation where he might hurt someone.

"Okay," Tsukishima said, quietly. Bokuto nodded, eyes wandering everywhere but Tsukishima as he kept one hand firmly clamped over his mouth and nose. 

"I'll sit out here," he said, stepping into the hall and closing the door almost fully behind himself. 

Tsukishima stared through the inch of open space between the door and the jamb. He could feel Bokuto's presence out there like a storm, the pressure almost overwhelming. 

A sudden cramp ripped through him and he let out a noise stuck somewhere between a yelp and a gasp. Clutching his midsection, Tsukishima doubled over, feeling himself start to shake all over again. Bokuto being nearby was just going to exacerbate the heat, as long as the alpha was taking in his omega pheromones. But the thought of sending Bokuto away and leaving himself open for some other alpha to come across was too... it wasn't an option.

Maybe that was his heat talking, not wanting to send the alpha away. Tsukishima let out a dry bark of laughter. He was starting to lose track of what was sensible and what was needy instinct. The laughter crumbled into a groan as arousal cinched tight in his gut. 

"Gee, Tsukki, I'm sorry." Bokuto's voice startled him, but he didn't respond. "Hey. Damn, you're the one Akaashi's been noticing..."

Ah. Akaashi was more sensitive to pheromones than most betas. Tsukishima wasn't really surprised to hear that the setter had taken notice of his in between doses of heat suppressants. What was it with setters this week? At least the Nekoma setter wasn't on his case. 

"What's Kuroo gonna do?" Bokuto asked, sounding perplexed. Tsukishima groaned, wishing the other would shut up. "Shit, are you two--?"

"No," Tsukishima grit out, not caring that he could hear the lie in his own voice. 

Bokuto made a noncommittal noise. Tsukishima wasn't even sure if the other believed him or not. 

A disorienting amount of time went by. It couldn't even have been five minutes but it felt like an eternity. Tsukishima curled in on himself, shoulders shaking as he pressed his hands tightly against his abdomen, as though physically trying to suppress the heat. A hopeless groan of pain spilled out as he squirmed, trying to keep his posture stiff and still. It was a losing battle.

Grabbing his phone compulsively, Tsukishima checked his texts. Kuroo hadn't even opened them yet. What the hell was Akaashi doing?

Moaning hoarsely, partially from despair, Tsukishima dropped his phone and bent his knees up against his chest. 

He could hear Bokuto just outside the door, fidgeting and scraping his nails against the ground, tugging at his shirt and rubbing his arms. His restlessness only worsened Tsukishima's. He was breathing heavily through his nose, getting dizzy, before he noticed and quickly took a gulp of air through his mouth. Fuck. 

Kuroo wasn't coming.

The thought was abrupt and it suddenly felt like the truth. Kuroo wasn't coming, and Tsukishima was going to suffer like this until-- until... until one of the teachers showed up or, or...

 _Bokuto-san._ He didn't say it out loud, not on the first try. Could he really ask another upperclassman to-- 

Once was unreasonable enough. But twice? And two different alphas? And _them_ , of all people?

But swallowing hard through a dry throat, Tsukishima felt his heat worsening. He didn't have any heat suppressants in his body to kick in. He couldn't function like this, not unless he could... 

Tsukishima was too far gone to be thinking beyond much more than the next two steps in his life. If he needed to stifle his heat, then he needed to... he needed to fuck someone. An alpha would be most effective. A sound, close to a sob but more a groan, bubbled up in his throat. Bokuto was right there. 

Step one, get fucked. Step two, the heat will weaken and he can come up with a bigger plan.

Panting, Tsukishima pulled his face out of his knees, licking dry lips. "Bokuto-san?"

The door creaked a bit, and Tsukishima had the feeling that Bokuto was as high-strung as he was. "Yeah, Tsukki..?" He sounded hesitant.

' _Help me_ '? No way. ' _Can you fuck me?_ ' What a joke. 

"Come here," he said instead, breathless. There was a moment of silence, then shuffling, and Bokuto stepped into the room, hand lingering on the handle. "Come _here_ ," Tsukishima repeated, his voice a bit unsteady now. Bokuto stared at him, unusually quiet.

Then, breathing in deeply through his nose, he closed the door behind himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FRIENDS, ALWAYS GOTTA END ON A CLIFFHANGER. It's how I show my love.
> 
> I am legitimately distraught over how hideous blockquote looks on ao3. Save me.
> 
> AS ALWAYS, comments give me life!!! I may not always reply, but I read every single one! (I tend to hoard them, hence why I don't always get around to replying ;w; Thank you so much for all of your patience and support!!!)


	10. Detonate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... So like... ten months...........
> 
> ........ ya sorry this probably isn't worth the wait but ayyy the story continues???? I swear I didn't mean for it to take this long but hoo boy have I had a crazy time. This is 100% unedited, I literally just wrote it all out and I'm posting it immediately so that y'all patient motherfuckers don't have to wait any longer. For those of you who've stuck around, bless ur hearts.

Bokuto was different than Kuroo. There was some sort of control there, embedded into his nature, an aversion to causing others harm. It was more of a defense mechanism than anything, a way for his gentle nature to rein in some of his excuberant personality and wild tendencies. There was no doubt in anyone's mind who saw him; this boy was an alpha. Kind at heart, but with an animal in his gut, pacing until his nerves frayed enough to free it.

Or until he let go of the leash.

Bokuto was easier to convince than Kuroo.

Once the door clicked shut, Bokuto was locked into the confined space with Tsukishima's pheremones, and they flooded his system as he kept his hands at his sides. The effect was immediate; his pupils dilated, his instincts drove him forward, and his muscles tensed to keep him in place. "Tsukki?" he choked out, a trace of a growl in his voice, one that he had tried to suppress.

"Come here," Tsukishima repeated through gritted teeth, eyes flashing with impatience. "What more do you want? Just c-come..." A whimper smothered the rest of his sentence as he clutched at his abdomen, sucking in a ragged breath.

Bokuto was standing over him only a moment later, and then crouching in front of him, reaching out to grab his wrists, uncurling him. Tsukishima squirmed, kicking a leg out reflexively and shooting a pained glare at the ace. The intensity in Bokuto's eyes stilled him quickly, and the proximity of an alpha soothed his arousal just enough that he could meet the other's stare without wanting to throw up.

"Tsukki." Bokuto's voice was low, barely controlled, but the tremors in his hands meant he was doing a better job of holding back than Tsukishima would have given him credit for. "You have to be sure..." His voice trailed off, and it was clear there wasn't much time for Tsukishima to change his mind. Somehow, he knew he'd have a better chance of stopping a lit firecracker than he would getting Bokuto to stop once he'd started. 

There was a moment of suspension, of weightlessness, and Tsukishima held his breath, really _thinking_ for a second. Once he hit Go on this, there was no Pause button, no Stop, and definitely no Rewind. Kuroo had been-- considerate, he'd been... he'd still fucked Tsukishima, which the blond would have every right to hold against him later if he so desired, but he'd taken care in his actions. There was no guarantee that Bokuto would do the same. He was more reckless, careless, an elephant in a china shop.

"I am," Tsukishima grit out, and time resumed. He could see the moment Bokuto let go-- a full two seconds after Tsukishima said so, as though hesitating, thinking about leaving anyway. But somehow, Tsukishima suspected that he only would've been able to drag himself away from this close if Tsukishima had rejected him.

Bokuto's mouth crashed into his, rough and ravenous, and it made his arousal flare up, cramps lancing through his stomach and making him cry out. Growling low in his throat, the ace grabbed Tsukishima's shorts and yanked them down unceremoniously, dragging in the scent with a groan. 

A momentary flare of panic was quelled as Bokuto nuzzled against his cheekbone, littering kisses against his face as his fingers sought that hole, pressing two in without pause. Feeling himself clench down instinctively, Tsukishima moaned, hips twitching. "Tsukki," Bokuto sighed, leaning closer, close enough to nuzzle against his temple and nip his ear. The affection was a harsh counterpoint to the haste and severity of his hands on Tsukishima's thighs and ass. It was... dizzying. Disorienting.

"B-- Bokuto-san, ah," Tsukishima sucked in a sharp breath as the ace bit into his neck, teeth suddenly sharp and merciless against his skin. Yet somehow still it felt reassuring, flooding his body with endorphins and draining the tension from his limbs, making him slump back against the wall breathlessly. 

"Shh." Bokuto mumbled against his neck, hands working tirelessly, ridding him of the shorts and working to free himself from his own confines. "Where d'you like it?" 

The words caught Tsukishima off guard and he twitched back, staring down in disbelief at the spiker. Bokuto's stare was devoid of humor, of anything even resembling playfulness, and it made the blond gulp. 

"I-- I don't know," he said, trying to sound haughty but only sounding... shy. It made him grimace, hating his nature, but all sense of self-loathing evaporated when Bokuto shoved their mouths together and started sucking on his lower lip. 

Rough hands parted his knees, and Bokuto shuffled in closer, backing Tsukishima up until he was ramrod-straight against the wall. With a quick heft, Bokuto had Tsukishima sitting on his thighs, startling him enough to have him scrabbling for a grip on the other boy's shirt. "Bokuto-san," he hissed, and his words garbled when Bokuto dragged his hips forward and sank him down on the other's cock. A strangled noise, some part whine and some part moan, bubbled up in his throat as Bokuto pushed forward, until his knees hit the wall and Tsukishima's ass was settled entirely in his lap. 

"Mmmmmms'good," Bokuto moaned, lips brushing Tsukishima's ears until he once again lowered his head and fastened his teeth into the younger boy's shoulder. His hips were already moving, flexing and burying himself into the omega's hole, shallow thrusts that barely had him drawing out an inch. The depth that his cock reached had Tsukishima gasping and whimpering, legs twitching and squirming as he clung onto the back of Bokuto's shirt. 

His mind fizzled, static blurring his vision as pleasure pulsed through him incessently. Every stroke was a ceaseless pressure on his prostate, every minute movement dragging along inside of him and setting his nerves on fire. Shaking his head, feeling himself grow desperate for orgasm, Tsukishima clamped his mouth down around Bokuto's shoulder and cried out, squeezing his eyes shut as the other fucked him tirelessly.

* * *

"How could you be so irresponsible?" Akaashi hissed, barely keeping himself from sprinting down the hall.

"He told me not to tell anyone," Kuroo defended himself, his stride long enough that he was forcing Akaashi to jog to keep up as he hurried through the compound. "It was-- it's his business-- I felt like..." He trailed off, struggling to think straight.

"That it wasn't your place, as an alpha," Akaashi clarified, scowling. "I know. You were right. But he was wrong." How could Tsukishima be so careless? 

The scent of heat was growing overwhelming, even for Akaashi, and he knew they were getting close. Stealing a glance at Kuroo, he wondered-- not for the first time in his life-- what it must be like to not only sense these pheremones, but to have your body react so strongly to them. Akaashi counted his lucky stars that he'd presented as beta.

Something on Kuroo's face changed, and a second later he was nearly running. "Kuroo-san!" Akaashi took off after him, hoping they were far enough away from the sleeping quarters that no one would be awakened by their steps. 

Ahead of him, Kuroo swung the door open and froze. Tension broke out across his body like he'd been electrified, and something thunderous appeared on his face. Eyes widening, Akaashi poured in that last bit of energy he had, abandoning the prospect of stopping, and threw himself bodily at the captain. Catching himself on Kuroo's arm, he looked into the closet and understood.

Tsukishima lay on his back on the ground, bent nearly in half with his legs slung over Bokuto's shoulders, and Bokuto-- predictably, considering the position-- buried to the hilt inside of him. Tsukishima had his face buried in the Fukurodani captain's neck, muffled yelps and gasps trickling out. Bokuto's eyes were locked onto Kuroo though his hips never slowed, and a low growl began in his chest.

"Kuroo-san!" Akaashi yanked on him, knowing there would be no way to keep a fight between two alphas-- especially a fight over an omega-- quiet enough not to alert the whole damn camp. 

Kuroo's own growl was rising, fury flashing in his eyes as he stepped forward. There was possessiveness in that glare, a sense of betrayal, that Bokuto had taken Tsukishima... 

"Kuroo-san." The voice was breathless and hoarse but still sharp and harsh. Tsukishima.

The three all looked to him simultaneously; his eyes were foggy, hair damp with sweat and mussed, bites littered along his neck (Akaashi knew that Bokuto was a biter, and he sympathized with Tsukishima's state). But there was enough lucidity in his eyes that it made Kuroo's growl stop dead. 

"Piss off." Those golden eyes narrowed, and that was the last thing they saw before Akaashi swung the door shut.

"Akaashi!" Kuroo snarled. Still, he didn't reach for the door.

"You heard him," Akaashi said forcefully, jerking on Kuroo's arm again. "He consented."

"It doesn't count--"

"It counts as much as when you did it," Akaashi shot back ruthlessly, and he saw the hormonal outrage dissipate from Kuroo's eyes in an instant.

There was a heavy silence, broken only by a muted cry from inside the closet. Pain flickered across Kuroo's expression before he pulled away from Akaashi and rushed down the hall, far enough away until the sounds didn't reach. Akaashi followed more slowly, stopping halfway and glancing back at the closet door, worrying at his lip. Then, deciding, he reached Kuroo, laying a hand on his arm and giving him instructions.

Once Kuroo was gone, Akaashi settled himself outside the door, closing his eyes to try and tune out the sounds inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy Tsukki gets fucked Again. This time with bird boi. (With, not by.) 
> 
> This is probably the weakest cliffhanger but damn you guys deserve a little closure. 
> 
> No promises on when the next one will be up but hEY WE'LL SEE. 
> 
> I've read every single comment over this last year and thank you all so much for your love, patience, and appreciation ;_; I can't tell you how much it means to me <3


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